


Chasing the Past

by Nbriggs19



Series: Chasing The Past [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternative Story Line, Blood and Violence, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Chasing the Past, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hydra (Marvel), I Tried, Injury, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Marvel Universe, Mind Reading, Minor Character Death, Olivia is Elsa Basically, Olivia is a Badass, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Fiction, Pain, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Psychic Abilities, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Psychology, Sassy Olivia, Sassy Steve Rogers, Searching for the Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Feels, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3801880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nbriggs19/pseuds/Nbriggs19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m starting a new marvel fan fic, called ‘Chasing the Past.’ It’s an alternative story line of how Cap finds and rescues Bucky with the help of a character of my own creation, who has a special set of powers of her own. However, during his recovery, they discover an evil plot that has been playing itself out for over twenty years, with no shortage of tangling alliances, scorned and star-crossed lovers alike, and most importantly, revenge. As they delve deeper into this secret history, they're taken on a journey that some of them may not survive. Can they stop evil in time or will they be stuck Chasing The Past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "We Need You."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone. That was when she and everyone else was safest: when she was alone.

 

 

 

 

 

> “…So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” F.Scott Fitzgerald,  _The Great Gatsby._

 

Snow blown mountains, wind whipping any remainder of life into oblivion. The cold, crystallizing air seeped its way through the cracks in the woodwork of the old cabin. She wrapped a quilt around her, but it didn’t warm her. The bottle rested quietly in her purple hands, half-empty. Darkness, solace, cold, loneliness. No damage, no one to hurt. She was alone, miles from any kind of civilization, and that was the only thing that made everyone safe.

Then, a knock at the frozen door awoke her from her painful, nostalgic day-dreams that seemed to riddle her mind. She jumped at the noise, and then cautiously opened the door. The snowflakes rushed around the figure standing outside the so-called house. When the snow cleared, she could make out the figure’s dark-green eyes and shoulder-length, red hair.

“Hey, blue,” the figure said with a smile.

She yanked her long-lost friend inside, hugging her tightly, so happy just to see a familiar face. “Oh my God! Natasha!” she said excitedly, her own voice sounding alien to her ears that had grown accustomed to the silence. “What are you doing here?” 

“Can’t I come and visit my little sister?” she replied with a smile.

No. It was a lie. She knew it. Then, she put the pieces together. “… How did they find me?”

“They didn’t.  _I_ did,” she answered with a sigh, almost disappointed that she couldn't deceive her.

“…They don’t know where I am?” she asked, picking nervously at her fingernails.

“Nope. It’s just you and me.”

Natasha was bullshitting, and she knew it. Natasha may have been one of the world’s most renowned spies but, after spending twenty-some years with her, she knew when Nat was lying (as much as Nat hated it.) She walked over to the small so-called kitchen and poured herself a drink from an unidentified bottle. “…Why are you really here, Red?” she said, downing the liquid and pouring herself another glass.

“I think you know.”

She sighed, resting her hands on the counter. “I can’t go back… and, you know why.”

Natasha looked over her counterpart, how skinny she looked, how sunken in she looked, before asking, “How long has it been? Since an incident?”

“Over a year,” she reluctantly answered, “But, that  _doesn't_  mean I’m safe.”

“This is good, Liv. You’re finally taking control of them-“

This hits a nerve. “I can’t control them!” she said, through gritted teeth. Natasha jumped back slightly, not expecting her reaction. “You know that. They know that. They’re just going to throw me in a cage again.”

“No one is going to put you in a cage. Not again. This isn't like when we had the Tesseract, there's nothing that can possibly make you...agitated. You don't have to hide up here anymore. They trust you, now.”

She scoffed, downing her drink again. “They shouldn't.”

“Olivia-" she began, trying to reason with her.

Olivia turned her gaze away from her; she couldn't bear look at her, just one of the few dozen people she’d left behind. “I’m never going back, Tasha. The past is in the past…I’m just going to hurt them again,” she said, painfully bringing her eyes to her feet.

With that, Natasha was reminded of the real reason she came. “…An attempt was made on Nick’s life.”

She turned back to her, eyes wide. “What?”

“He’s alright, but according to the rest of the world, he’s dead.”

“What happened?” Olivia asked frantically.

“We were compromised. We were forced to dismantle ourselves. Now, we’re underground, trying to rebuild.”

Olivia processed this new information. A devastated look crept across her face.  _Her home. Everything. Gone._ “…Who?”

“Hydra. They’d been growing inside us for years. Secretly controlling us.”

She processed this information, feeling the emotion bubbling into a lump in her throat. But, she ignored it. She focuses on what’s important. “…They’re the ones who did this to me, aren't they?”

“That’s the way it looks…as of now, at least.” 

Olivia’s mind wandered, deep into the parts of her brain she refused to acknowledge. And a memory surfaced:

> _Two men in lab coats on either side of her, walking her down the hall. She couldn't make out their faces and everything seemed to be in a blur. She was dressed in tactical gear, short blonde hair pulled back into a small pony tail. She was young, only a toddler, maybe 3 or 4. They all reached the end of the hall where a large metal door was being guarded by two men, dressed head-to-toe in Kevlar. They stopped in front of the door, and the guards saluted the little girl before yelling out “Hail Hydra!”_

 

Olivia cringed as she returned to reality. Faces raced through Olivia’s mind. All of them were agents. All of them were friends. People she’d failed to protect. Tears welled up in her eyes. “…How many? How many died?”

“A few. Over 1/3 of our agents defected…” Olivia tried not to think about them. About who was still living and who wasn't; who was still her family and who had betrayed her home. “…We need you now more than ever, Olivia.”

She considered it, for just a second.  _Go home? See them all again?_  Then, she wiped the thought away. She shook her head. “…N-No. I’m a risk. I’m not going to damage them more than they already are.” A single tear fell from Olivia’s cheek and then a wave of bright blue energy danced across her eyes, filling her veins and irises with a bright blue light, causing them to glow. Then the energy dissipated, faded and her eyes returned to their usual navy blue. There and gone, just like a bolt of lightning. Olivia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

Natasha, unfazed by the strange occurrence, switched to her last tactic. “Liv?”

“What?” she asked, voice cracking, almost getting agitated.

“Brock was one of them,” she said, painfully. Seeing Olivia in pain seemed twice as painful for Natasha as it was for Olivia. She was always protective of her ‘adopted’ baby-sister.

Her eyes went wide. This changes everything.  _“What?”_  she said, a devastated look on her face.

“He helped lead their attack. ” Olivia’s mouth dropped open slightly, tears welling up in her eyes again. “…I’m sorry, Liv.”

Then, something extraordinary happened. Liv clenched her fists and jaw and blinked away her tears. Her brow furrowed.  _Turn pain to power._  "…That son of a bitch…!” she muttered, anger growing, tossing the glass down to the floor and shattering it into a million pieces.  _No. Not now._   _There’s no point in exploding now. There’s always a time and a place for anger, now is not that time nor place._ She buried the anger deep inside of her _._ Her thoughts began racing, trying to find another emotion to latch onto: Guilt. “I should have been there. I could’ve read everyone, see who was really on our side. I could’ve stopped this.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Liv. You didn’t know.”

“…How did I miss this? I read Brock’s mind countless times-”

“Liv, you know you’re not supposed to do that,” Natasha reprimanded.

“I know but…. I didn’t trust him. And, based on this, I had every right not to…But, he didn’t have any memory of Hydra,” she explained, confused.

“Most of them were sleeper agents that were activated after you left. And, there’s ways to get around being read, you know that.”

“…I never should have left. None of this would have happened.”

“But, now, you can fix it. You can help us  _now.”_ Olivia considered it for a moment, glancing down at her hands.

Then, she changed the subject to avoid answering, “What about you? You still with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” she asked, bringing the bottle up to her lips and taking another swig of it.

“Don’t use your defense mechanisms on me,” Natasha warned, snatching the bottle from her hands. Olivia raised an eyebrow up at her. She sighed before answering, “I was compromised, too. Had to find another lie to tell.”

“But, whose lies are you telling?” Olivia loved this. She was no longer getting grilled by Natasha.

“…I’m not entirely sure anymore,” she said, bothered by her own answer. She took a swig from the unidentified bottle.

“Maybe you've just finally started telling the truth,” Olivia said, smirking.

Natasha scoffed. “I doubt that will ever happen.”

“So, if you’re not with S.H.I.E.L.D anymore, why help them? Why try to bring me back?”

“I’m here as your friend, Olivia…We miss you, Clint, Maria, Nick….Things haven’t been the same since you left…They need you, Liv.  _I_ need you.”

Olivia glanced down at her hands. “I can’t promise that you’ll be safe…from me.”

‘I’m not asking you to. We-  _they_  need your help. So, will you help them? Are you in?”

She held out a hand toward Olivia. She stared down at it, contemplating her answer. Blue energy danced across her eyes again.

* * *

 

Four years later…

The night air over New York City was cold and hung through the empty alleyways like icicles from a rooftop. The pleasant sting of the fall air was absolutely intoxicating and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. And, being high up on the fire escape, only added to the chill. She wore a hoodie with her hood up over her head, partially to remain anonymous and partially to keep her ears warm. Her long, blonde hair was tucked neatly into the hood, only a few strands flying freely in the wind.

“He doing anything?” A familiar voice buzzed in her ear: Maria.

“Negative,” she replied. “He’s just sitting there…Just like he has been for the past three hours,” She said, analyzing her target: a homeless man in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and old sneakers. The hood was pulled up over his head, and he had done nothing but sit on the sidewalk with his head down and his arms crossed. She’d only been following him for about a day or so, but she’d found absolutely nothing new about him.

“Do you want to go in?”

“No. We still don’t know his mental status, he could be completely reliant on his instincts. And I don’t think facing an assassin in that state of mind would be an entirely good idea.”

“How long do you think this will take? Nick is growing impatient.”

She didn’t answer, noticing movement from across the empty street. The blond super-soldier was almost unmistakable. “…Do we have any record of Captain Rogers residing in the area?” she asked, eyes tracking every move he made, analytically. 

“According to our records, Rogers grew up only a few blocks from your location, so did the target.”

“…Hmm,” she analyzed the man as he walked down the dimly light street and entered a small sandwich shop across the street, never looking in their direction. “Guess I expected a bit more from the greatest soldier in history.”

“You haven’t seen him in uniform…”

“Yes, I’ve heard that spandex American flag is very in this season…” she said wryly, earning a huffed laugh from the voice in her ear. “Wait, did you say that the target grew up here, too?”

“Affirmative.”

“He’s searching out familiar places,” she concluded. “Alert Nick. I want authorization to move in. I need a squad here in the next two minutes, we’ll get him back to base.”

“That’s a pretty demanding order…” Maria said, almost warning.

“We’re pressed on time,” she explained. With that, Rogers left the sub shop with a bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She watched him curiously, the way a scientist would watch a lab rat, analyzing every movement. He crossed the street and knelt down in front of her target. She held her breath, knowing how bad the situation could turn. If the target recognized the man, there was no telling who he’d see the man as: a fiend or a  _mission_. This could be a blood bath.

He held out the coffee and sandwich before saying, “Here, take this. It’s too cold to be sitting out here like this.”

“…Oh, shit…” she muttered to herself.

The target glanced up, about to thank the stranger, but Rogers’ eyes went wide. “…Bucky?” he asked, in disbelief.

The target slowly stood, keeping his eyes on the man standing in front of him. A word came to mind, a name. He had absolutely no idea why it came to him but he blurted it out anyway: “…Steve?”

“Shit! I’m going in!” she told Maria.

“Liv, no, you don’t have clearance to-!” Maria protested but Olivia didn’t hear her.

She jumped down from the fire escape, swinging from the last platform and kicking Steve in the chest. She landed on the pavement between them, springing back up to her feet. Steve immediately reacted, widening his stance and clenching his fists. Then, he charged at the hooded figure in front of him, literally standing between him and his long lost friend. He swung at her face and she leaned to one side, dodging it. He threw a few more punches, she dodged them all, as if she’d done it a hundred times before. Then, she went on the offensive, throwing a few punches at him, managing to clock him in the jaw and the nose. Her movements were memorized and she moved swiftly, agilely and quickly. She  _had_  done this a hundred times before. 

She was about to throw a few more punches when a cold arm wrapped around her neck, yanking her off of Steve as he stumbled backward, blood dripping from his nose. The arm lifted her up off of the ground. Gasping for air, she tried to dig her nails into her attacker’s flesh before realizing that it was made of metal.  _Plan B._  She elbowed Bucky’s side and then kicked his knee, trying to loosen his grip but he didn’t budge. 

 _Fine, Plan C_. She smashed her head back into his and his grip loosened just enough for her to be able to slip away. She ran further down the street, knowing that Rogers would follow her. He jumped off of a newspaper dispenser and tackled her. She landed face down on the pavement, and wrestled herself out from under him with a swift kick into his head. She got up, running toward the street. Steve got up and began running after her. Knowing there was no way she could out run him, so she had to out maneuver him. She ran up to a street light, jumped up and swung from it, spinning herself around, turning on a dime and her foot landed in the center of Steve’s face. Bucky watched frozen, not knowing how he could help. He was stuck in between his assassin’s training and his natural instincts, a battle going on inside his head rendered him almost helpless.

Steve stumbled backward, disoriented and she jumped down to the ground, landing with her knees bent. She landed a kick into his stomach and he keeled over. Then, she swiped her leg under his, knocking him off of his feet. He fell to the ground and she charged at Bucky. She had no intention of hurting him, she just wanted to prevent Bucky from going onto a killing spree. She jumped up, kicking off of the brick building and landing a kick in Bucky’s face. He fell to the ground. He jumped up again, almost immediately and began throwing punches. She dodged all of them. His fist swung past her face, she grabbed his arm and twisted it backward. To keep his shoulder from breaking, he was forced to bend over at the waist. Just as she was about to knee him in the face, he shoved his foot into her knee cap and she fell to her knees, crying out in pain. He yanked his arm free before grabbing her by the collar with his robotic arm and tossing her through the air, with relative ease. She slammed into a brick building and fell to the ground. Bucky helped Rogers up from the ground and they watched as she peeled herself off of the ground. 

“Right…Metal arm,” she muttered to herself. She stood back up with her back to them. Blue energy, fueled by pain and anger, began pulsating in the veins under her skin. She turned back to them, energy traveling down from the veins in her eyes to those in her arms and it pooled in the center of her hands. They gawked at her as she began glowing blue with energy. 

“What in hell…?” Bucky muttered to himself. Their guard was down and she saw her opportunity. She ran toward them. Bucky stepped out in front of Steve and swung at her with his metal arm. She grabbed his fist and sent a surge of blue energy through it. All of its sections shifted and started going haywire. She wrapped her arm around his neck and, using it as a sort leverage, kicked up her leg and swung it into Steve’s face. Then, she wrapped her legs around Bucky’s neck, putting two fingers to his neck and sending energy through them, shocking him in his neck and causing him to lose consciousness. He fell face down on the pavement. She rolled off of him and turned back to Steve. He began throwing punches and she dodged them all. She had no reason to fight him, her target was already detained. But, it’s pretty hard to explain a situation when someone is trying to kill you. All Steve saw was someone trying to hurt Bucky. He couldn't let that happen. Not again. He swung at her face and she only did what was instinctual: she brought her hands up, forming an ‘x’ with her arms and a blue shield of energy appeared out of thin air, creating a field of energy that spanned over her arms.

Steve couldn't stop his punch from landing on it and when his fist hit the energy field, his hand flew back and he stumbled backward with it. Eyes wide, he stared back up at her. She shoved the shield at him and it pushed him back, his feet skidding on the road. She ran. She had to get out of the public eye before someone saw something they shouldn't have. At this day in age, she was never more than two hundred feet from an idiot with a camera phone. She ran toward the alley but something flew up and hit her in the back of the head. Stunned, she fell to the ground. Steve yanked her up by her collar and pinned her up against a car parked in the street, his hands pinning her shoulders against it. She glanced down and saw the object that had hit her in the head: a trash can lid.

“Who the hell are you?!” he yelled, angrily.

She was tired, bruised and, frankly, pissed off. She had a job to do and this guy was getting in the way. She lifted her eyes up at him, feeling the blue energy building up behind them. In the dark, she could see their blue light glowing softly on his face. His furrowed brow relaxed as his eyes widened in amazed confusion. Then, she held up her hand, and a ray of blue energy exploded from her palms, it blasted him off of her and he went flying across the street into a brick building on the other side of the street. He was out cold. She tried to catch her breath and then she glanced back at the blond super-soldier lying unconscious in the street and then to the dark haired target lying face down on the sidewalk.

Then, she muttered into her earpiece, “We've got him.”


	2. "Welcome back."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the new patient contained and sedated, Olivia was going to get to work, that is, if it hadn't been for a certain blonde super-soldier.

 

“Steve…Steve…Steve!”

Steve awoke with a start in the same spot she had left him in. The night was slowly fading away as the sun rose. He was dizzy and the back of his skull ached, but other than that, he was doing alright for being thrown into a brick wall.

“You alright?” Sam asked, leaning over the unconscious super-soldier. Steve stood up and glanced around, nervously searching. “Steve? Where have you been? Captain America goes missing for four hours and people will start-”

“He was here,” Steve said, glancing around the empty street.

“What?”

“Bucky. He was here,” Steve explained, frantically.

“Well, where is he now?”

“They took him.”

“They?”

“Hydra. They sent someone here and they took him.”

“Steve, where did they take him?” Sam said, in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

“I-I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?”

He sighed. “I don’t know.” Suddenly, Steve’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He dug it out and then sighed, almost relieved.

“What is it?”

“It’s Fury…They’ve got him.”

 

* * *

 

Steve and Sam came roaring down the hallway of the secret, underground base, Sam jogging next to the determined super-soldier, trying to keep up with him. The base was nothing more than a glorified cave. While the room had proper walls and flooring, the ceilings were nothing but red bedrock with lamps hanging precariously from them.

Olivia was waiting there. She was dressed in uniform this time: black heels and skirt and a navy blouse. Her long, blonde hair was down, curled and hung down to her elbows. She exited Bucky’s examination room with a sigh, scribbling things down in her notebook and then typing things into a computer against the wall. She noticed the two racing down the hall towards the door of the examination room. She stepped out in front of them saying, “Um…Excuse me, sir, you can’t go back there.”

“The hell I can’t!” Steve growled, trying to push past her.

She pushed him back, ordering, “Hey! You can’t go back there!”

“Why not?” Steve said, angrily.

She was unfazed by the angry muscular man towering over her. She kept a straight face as she explained, “You lack proper identification, security is at level nine and… _he could kill you,_ ” she said, raising her eyebrows up at him.

He didn’t care. “Miss, step aside.”

She crossed her arms at the demeaning title. “'Miss?’ Just who the hell do you think you are?”

“You don’t understand. I've spent the past four years tracking-” he tried to explain but she wasn't having it.

“Look,  _pretty boy_ , I, frankly, don’t give a damn. You can’t go back there,  _no exceptions._  You’re not even supposed to be here. Only agents with level 9 clearance or higher are working on reconstruction.”

“I  _am_  level 9 and I was sent here by Director Fury.”

“It’s former director and, Nick has no authority over this department.”

“Then, who does?”

“ _I do_. And, I want you off of my floor within the next thirty seconds or I will drag you two out of here myself.”

“But-" 

"That is an order,” she said, lowing her voice into a demanding tone.

“Aren’t you a little young to be giving orders?”

“Aren’t you a little old not to be following them, Captain Rogers?” she said, raising an eyebrow up at him. “Careful, don’t want to break a hip,” He sighed, agitated. Then, she smirked and added, “Well, then again I can’t really expect you to understand how things work around here…You’re just a chorus girl, right?”

A sudden vision of Colonel Philips flashed before his eyes. Then, he noticed the necklace hanging around her neck. It was nothing more than a simple circular pendant, one blue jewel in the center but he immediately recognized it from the night before, form the mysterious figure in the alleyway. As he was staring at the necklace, she thought he was staring at her chest. “May I help you, Spangles?” she snapped.

“…That necklace. I’ve…seen it before.”

She wrapped her fingers around it nervously, realizing that her cover may have been blown. “It’s a tracking device. Lot’s of people have them here…And, if you’re just going to stand here to discus my fashion decisions, I suggest you leave.  _Now.”_

It  _was_  her from the alley. He knew it. “…Who are you?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Someone who isn’t going to back down just because another disrespectful, arrogant, inconsiderate-”

“Olivia!” A voice boomed from the hall.

She sighed without looking in his direction, then she painted on a not-so-convincing grin and said, “Uncle Nick.”

“…Uncle?” Sam asked, realizing that she was addressing Fury who walked up behind her.

“Adoptive,” she explained, turning toward him.

“I see you've met the captain.” Nick remarked.

“You could say that,” she said, throwing a blue glare over her shoulder in Steve’s direction. “I was just telling them to leave.”

“Why?” Nick asked.

She pulled him aside and tried to exclude Sam and Steve from the conversation. “Because the patient isn't ready for contact. He’s still undergoing detox!” she said in a hushed tone.

“Detox? Detox of what?” Steve said, eavesdropping.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not here to babysit,” she whispered to Nick.

“No one is asking you to.” Nick slapped a hand on her shoulder and turned her back toward Steve and Sam. “Cap, Wilson, this is Special Agent Olivia Ritter. Head of our psychological department, decorated veteran and our top interrogator. She’s worked with the CIA, FBI, MI6, you name it. If anyone can get him out of there, it’s her.”

“Miss,” Steve said, nodding begrudgingly yet polity.

“Don’t call me that,” She snapped. “Around here, I have more authority than you do, Rogers. So I suggest you start calling me ‘ma’am.’ “

“Olivia…play nice,” Nick warned. She rolled her eyes. “How’s he doing?” he asked, motioning toward the closed examination room door.

She sighed. “That’s a bit complicated.”

“Define complicated,” Steve said.

She walked over to a monitor at the side of the hall and began giving a sort of impromptu presentation.

“This is a neuron. This is what makes up 95% of your nervous system. They are the cells that store and carry data in the form of electrical signals throughout your brain. Each of them hold a unique experience: a feeling, a thought, a smell, a view, an idea. In short, these make you who you are. There are billions- literally trillions- of these, each of them different from the last. And, each person has different organizational structures of their neurons,” Olivia explained.

Sam huffed a laugh. “Sounds complicated.”

“Not even half-way done. See this?” she said, pointing up to the bridges between the neurons. “It’s called an axon. They make up the bridges between our memories. And they are covered in these little things called glial cells which feed and clear the neuron of any toxins.”

Fury, growing impatient, said, “What does this science lesson have to do with him?”

“I’m getting to that. These glial cells usually do pretty well at keeping out toxins but, they can be slowed if there’s not enough heat to keep the reactions moving along. When you couple low temperatures with a cocktail of neurotoxins, cells that aren't used regularly, they loose their bridges connecting them to other cells, rendering them practically useless.”

“So…he was drugged?” Sam asked, trying to make sense of the ranting neurologist.

“Well, frozen, then drugged, and then shocked to increase the effect of the drugs, and then conditioned to break him but, yes, drugged nonetheless.”

“But, he’s going to be alright?” Steve voiced his worry.

“As of now, yes. He has to make it through detox, get all of those chemicals out of him and then, we’ll see where to go from there. With some luck, we may be able to begin rehabilitation.”

“How long until that point?” Nick asked.

“That depends. Could be anywhere from a few hours to a few-”

“How. Long,” Nick asked again, sternly.

She sighed, agitated.”…Six hours,” She answered begrudgingly.

“You've got five,” Nick retorted.

“Yes, sir,” She answered, as Nick left to go deal with some other issues.

She started toward the door to the examination room, flipping through Bucky’s file. Steve quickly followed, asking more questions. “When can I see him?”

“I don’t know. Whenever he’s out of detox but even then it might not be a good idea,” She answered, remorsefully.

“Why not?”

“Well, even if the drugs have worn off enough for him to begin recognizing things, there’s no telling who he’ll see you as; a mission or a friend. We can’t take that risk.”

“I saw him before he was captured. He recognized me, called me by name. He knows who I am.”

“It’a risk, Rogers. One that could lead to your demise.”

“I could help him. Bucky and I were friends since we could walk, I know him and he knows me.”

“Stand down, soldier. We  _will_ get his memories back in due time. But, at this point, that’s all I can promise. They had him on some really hardcore drugs that he’s still coming down from, they abused him, tortured him, turned him into an animal, and he repressed it all. There’s no way of knowing how he’s going to react once all of that is dug up again. Can you imagine waking up in a strange new place, not recognizing anyone, not knowing anything, who or where you are, you don’t feel like you belong?”

“…Actually, I can.”

Olivia watching him for a moment, realizing that Bucky may not be the  _only_ emotionally compromised super-soldier in here. “...Alright, now imagine waking up and being told that while you were asleep, you committed some of the most serious assassinations in the past fifty years and you don’t remember any of it... All I’m saying is that, he’s still in there, it’s still Buck, but…he’s been through a lot. I’m just trying to warn you: He may not be exactly the same as he was back in the day.”

“Well, neither am I,” Steve said, almost a bit proudly.

Olivia’s eyes looked him up and down before locking onto his and saying, “…That’s debatable.”

An agent entered from behind her from the examination room. “Ma’am? He’s waking up.”

She never took her quietly analytic eyes off of Steve as she muttered, “Dismissed,” and the agent left. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

She entered the examination room, closing the door behind her. Bucky laid in the middle of the room, strapped to a hospital bed. Olivia waves the other agents and nurses out of the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, watching the unconscious super-soldier as he slowly woke up. With her back turned to the doorway and the window, she knew no one could see her eyes glimmer with blue energy as she began digging through Bucky’s memories. Small, vague blurs of shapes  and people passed before her eyes. Then, mechanical whirring filled her ears. A burning sensation in the back of his neck. Screaming... _blood_...bright lights...pain. She cringed as she was brought into reality, blue energy flew through her eyes and then disappeared.  _You poor, poor thing._

Meanwhile, Steve was watching through a window, Sam next to him as Nick stepped up to them.

“Exactly how qualified is she?” Steve asked.

“Very,” Nick replied without hesitation. “She’s been working with cases like this for over twenty years.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Twenty years?” He asked looking again at the young agent who was examining his friend. “She can’t possibly be-”

“Olivia started here when she was six,” Nick explained. “S.H.I.E.L.D practically raised her. Why else would I let her call me ‘uncle?’” He said with a bit of a laugh.

“Are you recruiting kids now? You let them start that young?”

“She and Natasha both did. She has special abilities, ones that were too valuable to take for granted. We stepped in to make sure she was safe, kept her out of the wrong hands.”

“Really? A psychologist has skills that are ‘too valuable?’” Sam asked, skeptically.

“I never said psychologist.” Nick said, but he never elaborated.

* * *

 

Bucky began to open his eyes, groaning quietly. Olivia looked up from his file and asked quietly, “Mr. Barnes, can you hear me?”

“W-where am I?” Bucky asked, still groggily. She sighed, half-relieved that she didn’t have to break out her Russian and half-relieved that he responded to ‘Mr.Barnes.’

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City,” she answered simply. He began struggling with the restraints on his arms. She rested her hand on his metal hand, calmly before explaining. He froze, shocked that his metal appendage didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.  _She’s touching me. She’s not staring at me._  “We’re going to get you out of those in just a minute. In you sedated state, you had some pretty violent dreams; those are just for your own protection.”

“…Who are you?” Bucky asked, blushing slightly but she didn't seem to notice.

“My name is Special Agent Olivia Ritter. You have amnesia and I’m here to help you.”

“And, I have to be tied up for that?” He asked, flicking an eyebrow up at her.

She sighed and untied him. “Now, may I ask you a few questions?” He nodded. “Can you tell me your full name?”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” He answered simply. He knew that was his name, why it felt so foreign is what he didn’t know.

“Mr. Barnes, where do you last remember being?” She asked, writing a few things down on a notebook in her hands.

“Uh…” He searched his mind. He knew where he had been, just not what it was called.  _Think. Come on, think._  “Brooklyn,” He answered finally. “Outside a, uh, a cafe or something like that.”

“Good,” Olivia said with a sweet smile. “Was anyone there with you?’

  _The man. The man on the bridge. The man in the street. Who was he? Why did he know my ‘name?’_ "Uh, there was this man…He looked familiar but…I-I can’t remember where I know him from…I… I think I called him… I-I don’t know-” Bucky struggled with the recent events, trying to remember if they were real or if they were a dream.

Olivia nodded. “That’s fine, perfectly normal. It’ll come back to you within the next few hours. Now, these agents are going to run a physical, okay? Make sure you’re not hurt,” She said, speaking oddly sweetly, considering she had just screamed angry orders at Rogers and Wilson. “I’m going to be right back, alright?” He nodded as two nurses entered and Olivia stood and left.

“How is he?” Steve asked, practically the second she left the room.

“Today might be your lucky day, Rogers,” She replied, smirking proudly.

“Well?” Nick asked.

“I read him-” Olivia began.

“‘Read him?’” Steve asked, but he was never answered.

“And?” Nick inquired, ignoring Steve.

“He’s fine. He remembers the events of today and up to three weeks ago and it’s all coming back fast. There’s still a lost of holes that need to be filled in but,” She glanced over at Steve. “I think we can send you in.” The hope absolutely exploded into his blue eyes.

“Great,” Nick concluded.

“Now, you have to be very careful. He’s still at a very delicate stage right now. Overwhelming him with information or emotion can cause a complete overload and he could go into a psychotic break. You have to follow my instructions exactly as I say them. Is that understood?”

“Yes…  _Ma’am,”_ He said, wryly. She snorted in reply before opening the door and waving the agents out of the room. She entered and Steve followed hesitantly, leaving Sam and Nick waiting in the hall. 

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Sam spoke up and asked, “So…how  _did_  you lose your eye, anyway?” Nick just looked at Sam with a one-eyed glare of disapproval. "...What?"

* * *

 

“Mr. Barnes, is this the man you recognized?” Olivia asked upon entering the room.

Bucky’s eyes went wide. He stood hesitantly.  _Man on the bridge. Man in the street. Steve. His name is Steve. The man in the war. The man in that dumb ass uniform. The kid too dumb to run away from a fight. He was smaller then. That fuckin’ punk. Oh, my God, it’s Steve!_  The name that had been stuck in his head now had meaning. A smile crawls across his face.”…Steve?”

Steve smiled back. “Hey, Buck.”  _Buck. Bucky. My name is Bucky. He is Steve. I am Bucky. That’s who I am._  Bucky ran up to him and hugged him, careful not to crush him with his metal arm, burying his face into Steve's shoulder, clutching onto him desperately.

“I-I can’t believe you’re here!” Bucky said excitedly. "I thought you were dead!”

“I thought  _you_  were dead!” Steve replied.

“How are you still alive? How are you not all…old?” Bucky asked once he let Steve out of his grip, choosing his words carefully.

“Captain Rogers - Steve - was chasing down the Red Skull. Schmidt was planning to drop atomic bombs on the U.S. He stopped him but he was forced to crash land the plane into the waters just north of Nova Scotia, where he remained frozen for nearly 70 years. And, apparently, Dr. Erskine’s serum allowed him to survive.”Olivia explained.

Bucky spends a beat, processing this new information. Then, out of all of the things he could say, he turns into a parent scolding his child. “Steven Grant Rogers, you little idiot! Why in hell would you, purposely, crash a plane in the middle of the freakin’ ocean?! You could’ve killed yourself!”

Steve hugged him again before muttering, “It’s good to have you back, Buck,” with a smile on his face.

"Oh my god….” Olivia muttered, her eyes going wide as she stared down at the tablet in her hands, scanning his brain, weeing all of his neurons firing. “This is incredible!” 

 “What?” Steve asked. 

 “He remembered everything…as soon as he saw you. One look and he knew,” She stated. 

 “Told you I could help.” Steve replied, smugly. 

* * *

 “Mr. Barnes, Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.” Olivia said, leading Bucky and Steve to the center of the base: a huge room filled with rows of agents and computers, everyone scrambling, adding to the general buzz of the base. They all stood on a balcony, looking over the agents. Bucky sauntered closer to the edge of the balcony, glancing around at the new environment. “We were constructed in the years following World War Two as an intelligence agency dedicated to keeping world peace. It was founded by Howard Stark and Peggy Carter,” Olivia explained.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder at her before asking, “You know Pegs?”

“Well, I call her Grandma Margret but, yeah, I know her,” She answered with a fond smile.

Steve snorted, quietly. “That explains a lot.” He muttered with a smile.

“I’m sorry?” Olivia asked, glancing over at him.

“You’re... a lot like her.” Steve explained, with a fond smile creeping onto his face at the sheer thought of Peggy.

“Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the maternal figure-head,” Olivia retorted.

“So, Stark built this?” Bucky asked, looking down at the complicated mess of people and technology all buzzing and moving.

“Yes, sir,” Olivia answered.

“But, he still hasn't built that flying car?” Bucky asked, recalling the red car that he had seen at The World’s Fair nearly seventy years ago.

Olivia smiled.  _Oh, Uncle Phil._  “Actually he did,” she spoke up. “It was never mass-produced. Only a few dozen were made and, as of now, there’s only one left in existence. Her name is Lola. We’re not allowed to touch her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I didn't post this for a while, finals and school and tons of other stuff got in the way. Let me know if you want more!


	3. "State your name."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later and Bucky's rehabilitation has begun.

Scientists sat in a huge factory, hundreds of them sitting in rows at tables, each of them with an old, dirt-covered artifact on the table in front of them.  They were all carefully extracting glowing blue particles and transferring them into small black batteries. Brock watched over their shoulders, sauntering between the rows of lab tables. An agent approached him.

"Sir?"

"At this rate, it will take years to scavenge enough power," Brock concluded, paying the agent no attention, running his hands through his short, jet-black hair. "I want you to gather two hundred more."

"Two hundred?! But, sir, we can't possibly-"

He turned, snapping the agent up into the air by his collar, lifting him off of his feet and bringing the agent face-to face with him. "Make. It. Work," he said, sternly, glaring the agent down.

"...We may not have to," the agent said, quietly.

Brock set him down the agent, reluctantly. "This is the only way to bring back what they have taken from us."

"She's been found, sir," the agent said, holding up a file that Brock didn't realize he had. "Even with our... _dated_ technology."

 Brock snatched the file from him and opened it to find a grainy photo of a hooded figure, its hands up, glowing blue as it stood in the center of a city street. Brock smirked. "She's back," he stated, grinning.

"She captured the asset and we have reason to believe she's helping him remember," the agent explained.

Brock considered this for a moment before slamming the file into the agents chest and continuing his stride through the room. "Change targets." 

"W-what?"

"Gather a team. 'Barnes' is going to get a little visit." He used his name as if it was a stupid nickname, an insult.

"But, sir, wouldn't it be more wise to go after her?"

"We don't have to go after her, she'll come to us,"  he said, glaring at the metal arch-way at least twenty feet high at the end of the room. "Then, she'll usher in a new era."

"...An era of peace."

"No...An era of power."

* * *

 

Two weeks later… 

“Again.” Olivia ordered at the dark-haired super-soldier who had been laying into a punching bag for the past twenty minutes. 

She was dressed in a navy tank top and yoga pants and he wore a t-shirt and jogging pants. Both of their hands were wrapped, except for his metal one. Olivia had made it clear to him that physical therapy was just as important as psychological. Her objective was to make sure that, if he ended up using his assassin’s training, he wouldn't slip back into what she had affectionately dubbed 'Winter-mode.’ 

“Again. State your name,” she ordered, watching him lay out punch after punch. 

He dropped his arms before asking, “How long do I have to do this?” as he brushed a stray black hair out of his face. 

“Until I say you can stop,” she answered, blandly. 

“You didn’t answer me,” he replied. 

“ _You_  didn’t answer  _me_. State your name,” she repeated. 

Bucky ignored her orders and instead said, “…Y'know, for as much as you know about me, I don’t know anything about you.” He continued punching into the bag. 

“You don’t need to know anything about me,” she answered simply, trying to avoid Bucky’s advances.

“Doesn't mean I don’t want to,” he said, tossing a flirty glance over his shoulder at her.

"Focus…” she warned with a begrudging smile and he continued beating the bag, rhythmically. “Lots of people want lots of things. Doesn't mean they get what they want.” 

“Come on, don’t I have a right to know at least a little bit about my supervising officer?” 

She sighed. “Fine. What would you like to know?” 

He stopped, lowered his fists and turned to face her, a smirk growing on his face. “How did a beautiful girl like you end up in a place like this?”

"Not by flirting with ex-assassins,” she replied, smirking. She  _was_  flirting with him but not because she liked him, she was getting him to open up. That little Russian Casanova was a lady killer at heart and Olivia knew this was the best tactic for getting him comfortable around her. And, if he was going to heal, he  _needed_  to be comfortable around her.

“That’s not a real answer,” Bucky complained. 

“You asked for an answer, I gave you one,” she stated. “Now...State your name,” she ordered, trying a different tactic, and shoving Bucky backward. Not so hard that he would have fell over but he still stumbled backward.

“Hey!” he reprimanded, a bit surprised by her sudden violence.

She pushed him back again. “State your name,” she repeated, clenching her fists at her sides.

Bucky quickly noticed this and, in response, asked timidly, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“State. Your. Name,” she growled, taking a step forward. In return to her sudden change in demeanor, he took a step back. The sweet blonde girl who had helped him for the past few weeks was gone. This was  _terrifying._ “What?” she asked, tauntingly. “You afraid to hit a girl?”

Bucky quickly brought his metal arm behind his back, as if he was hiding it. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he stated quietly.

“Maybe I’m trying to hurt  _you,_ ” she explained, only confusing Bucky more. “State your name.”

“James Barnes,” he answered, quietly.

Then, she swung at him, landing a punch in the center of his face. Immediately, he stumbled backward, trying to fight the instinct to hit back. “Again,” she ordered.

“James Barnes,” he repeated, this time a bit more confident.

She swung another punch, clocking him in the jaw. “Louder.”

“James Barnes...” he said again, anger and confusion growing.

“Louder!” she shouted.

“James Barnes!” he shouted back. As soon as the words slipped from his lips, she swung at him again but he caught her fist, stopping it mid-air, but his metal hand was still hidden behind him.

She huffed a few laughs, breathlessly. “Good. Very good,” she breathed. They were sparring now and she seemed oddly calm. “...But, not good enough...” she muttered, turning her back to him, pulling his human arm over her and flipping him over onto the mat-covered floor. He landed with a thud and a groan. “State your name!” she ordered again.

Oh, he was pissed now. He knocked her off of her feet and then pinned her on the ground, slamming her wrists above her head. She held out an open palm, instinctively, ready to blast him away. But, she hesitated. “My name is James Barnes!” He answered, breathing heavy.

“...Very good, Buck. If you can remember your name when someone’s trying to harm you, you’ll remember it always. It seems I've underestimated you.”

He stood, reaching out his hand. She took it and he helped her from the ground. “So that’s what that was. You’re not a bad fighter.”

“See? Told you, you weren't going to hurt me.” She said with a smug smile.

He sat down on the mat, folding his legs under him and running his fingers through his hair. “You haven’t seen what I’m capable of.” He said, eyes going to the floor.

She analyzed him carefully before asking, “...Are you remembering anything?”

“It’s coming back in pieces but...yeah, I am.” 

She sat down in front of him. “Tell me.”

“...It’s just a face...I don’t know his name or who he was but...for some reason...I was terrified of him,” he answered, leaning his arms on his knees and folding his hands out in front of him, which were shaking profusely.

She held out an open palm to him. “Let me see.”

He gently placed his hand in hers and she examined it carefully as it shook. “It’s been doing that all week, it’s getting worse,” he explained.

She glanced up at his eyes. “Look at me,” she said, taking her other hand to his chin, lifting it so she could see his dark-brown eyes, which were red and bloodshot. “You’re going through withdrawal from the drugs they gave you. Ironically, you body developed a dependence on them. You’re on your way out of it.The shaking might get worse before it gets better, but it  _will_  get better. You're head’s going to clear up, too. And, once it does, you need to talk to me, alright? It will do you no good to keep it to yourself. Understood?” she asked, removing her hands from him.

“Whatever you say, Miss Ritter,” he replied with a small, flirty smile.

“Hey, that’s ‘Agent Ritter’ to you,” she scolded, half-seriously. “Go, get changed. We’re going to go to the gun range next. Test out your old sniper skills. When you’re done, meet me out on the Bridge. Sound like a plan?” she asked, standing up.

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.” He stood and went off to the locker room which was connected to the gym.

She exited, taking her hair out of its ponytail and running her fingers through it. She changed back into her uniform: skirt, navy blouse and high heels. Her hair was straight, draped down her back. She stepped out onto the balcony, watching absentmindedly as the agents below her buzzed like bees. Her mind wondered, as it often did. This time, she found herself recalling her first night at S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

> They found her in a pile of rubble and ash, her eyes and palms glowing bright blue, burning with anger. The six-year-old was crying. Not sobbing, the tears just flowing down her face. The remains of the base were still smoldering, all of it was burned to the ground, but the little girl didn't have a scratch on her. When Nick and many others tried asking her anything about what happened, she would just mumble, "Ils sont mauvais personnes, ils font du mauvais choses. Ils sont mauvais personnes, ils front du mauvais choses..." _They are bad people, they do bad things._
> 
> A dark room. A stiff cot under her head. She was being watched and she knew it. There were people on the other side of that window, carefully analyzing her. Her eyes were closed but she refused to let herself sleep. New environments weren’t exactly unnerving for the six-year-old. Then, the door swung open, light exploded into the room. Almost immediately, the little girl sprung up, aiming a glowing open palm at the figure in the door, ready to blast away whoever was waiting there. The figure quickly rose its hands in the air, trying to seem less threatening. “Ça va. C’est ça va.” A woman’s voice replied, calmly. “Vous comprenez français, oui?”  _You understand french, yes?_  She asked.
> 
> Hesitantly, the little girl nodded. “Je suis ici pour vous aider.”  _I am here to help you_. The woman explained and the girl reluctantly lowered her arm, but her eyes still glowed blue like a furnace. The woman stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. The lights in the ceiling slowly illuminated and the girl finally saw the woman’s dark brown hair and eyes, her friendly features. She flashed the little girl a red-lipped smile as she sat down on the edge of the cot. “Je m’applle Madame Carter. Pouvez-vous me dit ton nom?”  _My name is Mrs. Carter. Can you tell me your name?_  The little girl didn’t answer, just stared at Peggy with hesitant, calm curiosity as she dug into her mind. After seeing how she had acted in situations, her thoughts, her memories, her personality, the girl deemed her trustworthy.
> 
> Then, she peeped, "Olivie."
> 
> Carter nodded with a sweet smile and then, glanced down at the girl’s hands as if she was going to attack again. But, then, she noticed the red scars around the child’s wrists. Carter reached down for her wrists and, to her surprise, the little girl didn’t protest when Carter took wrapped her hand around her wrist, gently. Then, she asked, “Qui a fait ça?”  _Who did that?_  She asked, quietly. The girl didn’t answer but her eyes welled up with tears which she quickly blinked away. “...C’etait les mauvias personnes?”  _Was it the bad people?_  The girl nodded. Carter sighed before saying,  “Ils ne vont pas trouvez vous. Je le promets.”  _They will not find you. I promise_. Then, the little girl locked her glowing blue eyes onto Peggy’s. Her eyes lost their glowing energy and they faded back to their normal navy blue. Peggy gasped at the strange occurrence. The girl suddenly stood, starting toward the door. “Non, non, restez ici.” _No, no, stay here._  Peggy said, trying to stop the girl. She simply looked over her shoulder and shot Peggy a blank glance before swinging the door open and darting out. Peggy quickly ran after the girl. After a wild goose chase that caused a lock-down, a city-wide search and a nerve-racking twenty minutes, they found the girl, ruffling through old files in a secure storage room on a locked floor of the building with two unconscious agents waiting outside the door. Peggy and Nick confronted the girl who was clutching to an old file. When Peggy asked her what it was, the girl handed her the file and her only reply was a quiet whisper of the name, “...Steve...” It took only one glance at the ancient file before Peggy’s sweet, brown eyes went wide and she turned to Nick and muttered, “You were right...she’s a mind reader.”

 Then, a voice quickly brought her back into reality.

“Agent Ritter.”

She turned, her curled blonde hair whipping and fanning out into the air before falling down to her back, to see Steve and Sam approaching her. Steve paused, momentarily. Hey eyes, the way she carried herself, it all seemed so familiar, yet different. Something about her seemed so friendly inviting, but then when she spoke, Steve quickly remembered how intimidating she was.. or could be... Maybe underneath it all, the tough exterior, there was something actually sweet. Whatever it was there was more to her than meets the eye and Steve wanted to find out what it was. “Captain Rogers, Wilson, It’s a pleasure to see you... _again.”_

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked, snapped out of his trance.

“The same as yesterday: Progressing fast, doing well. He should be on his way if you want to see him...”

“Great...Thank you, Ma'am,” Steve replied with a smile.

“It’s no problem,” she replied, returning the smile.

“No, I mean, thank you, for everything that you've done for him. You have no idea how much you've helped him.”  _Don’t I, Rogers?_  she thought, quietly to herself.

“Just doing my job,” she replied, blushing slightly. It was rare for anyone to thank her, and she took it straight to heart.

“Your job includes spending your day with a 95-year-old assassin?” Sam asked with a laugh. “That’s one hell of a-” He was interrupted when a small unidentified object rolled in by their feet.

“Grenade!” Steve shouted, quickly jumping over Olivia and Sam, shielding them from the blast. An explosion went off that sent the group flying from the balcony down to the floor below. When the smoke cleared, alarms were blaring and agents were scrambling everywhere. She pulled herself off of the ground, “You guys alright?” she asked, turning to Sam and Steve.

“We’re good,” Sam said, stumbling to his feet and assuming that his super soldier friend was alright too.

“Where’s Bucky?” Steve said, standing to his feet.

Her eyes didn’t go wide, she didn’t panic. She was in attack mode, don’t be mistaken. But, she didn’t scream, her heart didn’t begin thumping out of her chest. She was alert but, strangely enough, she wasn't panicked. No, she just calmly began giving orders. “Locker room, second floor, go.” Steve ran off, Sam following after. Then, Olivia turned to the agents sitting at their computers completely dumbfounded at what had just happened. “Everyone, listen up! We’re under attack!  I want full lock down within the next thirty seconds!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” one agent responded before relaying orders over the PA system. Olivia glanced up at the balcony to see Steve and Sam glancing back down at her, a worried look on their faces. Steve just shook his head.

“All agents, Winter Soldier is AWOL!  Bring up every security cam operational. Find him!” she ordered.

“Ma’am, we've got movement in sector five,” one agent reported, screening the video stream up up onto the big screen, so they all could see a group of agents, dressed in black from head to toe, dragging Bucky down a hallway, Bucky fighting back furiously.

“He’s going to the hanger,” Olivia stated before calling orders into her radio, “Lock down the hanger, hostiles are attempting a kidnap, lock down!”

Steve didn’t wait and began racing toward the hanger, Sam following as best he could. Olivia glanced up, knowing Nick would have her neck if she let  _both_  of the super-soldiers be put in harms way. She let out an audible groan out of frustration before kicking of her heels, pulling her pistol out from the waistband of her skirt and running toward the hanger.

The agents were dragging Bucky into a helicopter and he was fighting back as best he could. Bucky managed to take down a few before they shoved a syringe in his neck and he went dizzy. Hostiles were fighting off agents, shooting a few. Agents began screaming to shut the trap-door style exit to the air as the helicopters blades began spinning, but one of the agents jumped from the helicopter and fought his way to the control panel, pressing a few buttons and forcing the door open. Sam and Steve arrived in the hanger and Sam tossed a gun to Steve after taking out his own and they both began firing up at the helicopter as it lifted off of the ground. Bullets began ricocheting off of the helicopter but none hit any of the agents. Then, a flaming ball of blue energy came flying from over their shoulders and struck the helicopter in the side, causing it to lose balance. But, the helicopter slid through the open trap door and flew off. Steve and Sam just gawked at the strange occurrence before they both looked over their shoulders to find Olivia, hair disheveled, barefoot, one arm extended outward, palms glowing bright blue along with her eyes. She lowered her hand slowly, breathing heavily, jaw clenched. 

“What the hell was that?” Steve almost yelled.

_Well, shit._


	4. Searches and Secrets- Part 1

Olivia quickly strutted down the hallway, her heels in one hand, trying to ignore the two soldiers behind her.

“It was you! You’re that girl from the alley!” Steve said, accusingly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Olivia replied blandly.

“Yes, you do. I know what I saw,” Steve said, desperately trying to keep up with her.

“Officially, you didn’t see anything.”

“Yeah, well, unofficially,” he snatched her arm, stopping her in her tracks and turning her toward him. “...I  _did_  see something.”

She whipped her arm out of his grip, glared at him, fighting the urge to punch him square in the jaw and then continued down the hall. Steve and Sam caught up with her and Steve stepped out in front of her, acting as a roadblock. “What. Was. That,” he asked, sternly, through gritted teeth.

“Nothing,” she quickly replied, not intimidated by the towering super soldier.

“Then, how come you’re running?” he asked.

“Look, Rogers, I’m just trying to help find your friend. Stand down and let me do my job!” she ordered, raising her voice, staring at him through her blond eyebrows. Steve froze (no pun intended) as her voice dropped into a deep demanding tone.

“Olivia, stop,” Nick said, entering from further down the hall. “We can’t just sweep this under the rug.”

She glanced up at the blond towering over her then, in a hushed tone, turned back to Nick, saying, “I could wipe them.”

“Liv...” He warned, Steve and Sam’s eyes going wide.

“Did you get a read on the helicopter?” she asked, changing the subject before Steve could ask what she meant.

"No, they were smart. They disabled the GPS as soon as they left. We don’t even know which direction they went in. As of now, the only thing we’ve got is him,” Nick said, pointing over his shoulder at the locked door at the end of the hall. She stepped out and began making her way toward the end of the hall.

Sam spoke up, “Look, Fury, we have no idea what we just saw, and with all due respect, if we witnessed it, we deserve to know what the hell it was.”

Olivia stopped, shooting a glance over at Nick. He just nodded slightly and she sighed, aggravated. She turned to the two of them and began her mantra that she had said at least a dozen times before and had memorized for longer than she could remember. “The information about to be made known to you is highly classified. Any persons who spread this information in any form to any parties other than Nicolas Fury and myself are subject to immediate consequences. This information may only be discussed in confidence between Nicolas Fury and myself. If this information is spread via word of mouth, written, digital or otherwise, without both the written consent and physical presence of either myself or Nicolas Fury, those who spread this information are subject to immediate and unannounced consequences, of which include but are not limited to death. These terms and conditions are legally binding under S.H.I.E.L.D Code 4.19.83. With these terms in mind, do you wish to be made aware of this information?”

“That was really impressive,” Sam said after she finished her memorized speech.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she sighed before calmly stating, “There is a device in my brain that allows me to control energy fields and read minds.”

“...Excuse me?” Steve said.

“You heard,” she replied.

“Oh, great another Wanda,” Sam concluded.

"There's a machine...in your  _head_  that lets you read minds?" Steve asked.

“Yep,” Olivia said, flicking her eyebrow up at him.

“How-how does that even work?”

“No idea. We believe it’s some sort of Tesseract technology or at least something similar but considering, you would have to open up my skull, drill through my brain and snap my spinal cord to get to the device, we don’t know much else,” Olivia explained.

“This is ridiculous. No one can have a machine in their brain,” Steve said, in disbelief. “Let alone have it enhance their mind psychic capabilities.”

“Now isn't exactly the time to play ‘what number am I thinking off?’ because I’m actually trying to help you,” Olivia snapped. “But, if I couldn't read minds, Bucky wouldn’t remember  _anything_.” She said, stepping up to Rogers and standing on her toes, trying her best to be intimidating (and she was succeeding). She narrowed her eyes, shooting a deadly, navy glare up into his pale blue eyes. “Not you, not the war... _nothing._ "Steve was absolutely terrified by her but he couldn't help but notice how close she was to him. “Do you trust me now?” She snapped before storming off toward the door at the end of the hall.

Steve turned to Nick. “So, that’s why you need a six-year-old. She’s a mind reader.”

“Among other things,” Nick replied, smirking, just relishing in the fact that his ‘daughter’ had managed to make history’s best soldier shake in his boots.

“...Damn,” Sam said with a sigh. Nick snorted in reply.

 

> * * *
> 
>  

Olivia stepped into the room, tossing her heels down on the floor. The agent who had jumped from the helicopter, and kept the door open was now hand-cuffed to a chair in the center of the room. She sighed, pulled up a chair and sat down. “Alright. Look, I've had a  _very_  long day. So, I’d really appreciate it if I’m out of here by dinner time.” She stood, sauntering up to the man in the chair. “Good news is I won’t be torturing you. Not today. This will go one of two ways: You answer my questions the first time I ask, and don’t lie to me, I’ll know if you do, or you can stay quiet...” She suddenly took the back of his chair and tipped him back, leaning over him. Through gritted teeth, she added, “I’ll pull what I want out of you and then, you’ll be shipped off to Guantanamo Bay in a metal box where the CIA will make sure you’re never heard from again...It’s your choice.” The man breathed heavily but didn’t say anything. She huffed a laugh, set his chair back down on the ground. Then, she tilted his head up towards hers and her eyes glowed blue as she dug into his mind. Then, her eyes went wide and tears welled up in them.  _Turn pain into power._  She blinked them away before back-handing the agent so hard that his chair fell to the floor. “Son of a bitch!” she said, as her hand collided with the agent’s face.

She stepped out of the room, Nick, Sam and Steve all waiting eagerly.

“Who has him?” Steve asked, frantically.

“Hydra,” Olivia answered, clenching her jaw.

“Where did they take him?” Nick asked.

“He doesn’t know,” Olivia retorted.

“What do you mean he doesn’t know? He was ridding the damn helicopter!” Steve said, growing more and more frantic.

“He’s just a front. They knew he was going to stay behind to keep the door open, he doesn’t know anything about where they took him.”

“What does he know?” Nick asked, desperately trying to find something to use to find the ghost again.

“He knows that it’s Brock,” Olivia stated finally, through gritted teeth. She quickly realized how she was reacting and calmed herself.  _No anger, not now._  “He is their commander,” She stated.

Nick turned immediately to Steve and Sam upon hearing his name. “Rogers, Wilson, get packed up and suit up. We’re going to find him but it might take a bit longer than first expected.” Steve and Sam nodded and started toward the locker room. Then, he turned back to Olivia. “As for you, we got a call. They need you in Kuwait. Your plane leaves in ten,” he said, starting in the other direction.

Olivia quickly followed, stepping out in front of him. “I’m not going?”

He scoffed. “Your relationship with Brock wasn’t exactly platonic.”

“That was true until he tried to  _kill you,_ ” Olivia stated.

“You’re too emotionally attached to this. And god knows the last thing you need is to get your emotions worked up.”

“What exactly do you take me for? A hormonal teenager?” she snapped.

“It’s final, Liv.”

“You’re just going to assign someone else who doesn't care and they’re going to take twice as long as it would take for me to do it. Nick-” she protested.

“No, Olivia,” he said, sternly, brushing past her.

She ran up to him, stopping him in his tracks again. “Fine, fine, fine. If you won’t let me go for me, let me go for  _him._  He’s my patient and, as much as Rogers tries, if they get to his head, I’m the only one who can snap him out of it...” Nick hesitated, shooting her a one-eyed glare. “...Please.”

“...Fine. You can go,” Nick grumbled. She let out a barely audible sigh of relief, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He was quick to add the warning, “But you cannot let your emotions get in the way. Don’t let your vengeance get the best of you.  _And, stay away from Brock._ ” 

“Yes, sir,” she said, trying her best to remain professional as she started toward the locker room. Then, she turned, ran to him and hugged him. He hesitated before hugging her back, a reluctant smile growing on his face. “Thanks, Uncle Nick,” she muttered.

“Don’t let me down, kid,” he muttered back, quickly wiping the smile off of his face.

She pulled away and flashed a charming smile up at him. “...Can I take the Firebird?” she asked, hopefully.

He sighed. “...Fine,” he answered begrudgingly.

“Helicarrier?” she asked, grinning wider.

“Don’t push it,” he warned.

“Worth a shot,” she muttered. She planted a kiss on his cheek, “Thanks. Love you.”

“Mmmhmm,” he replied sarcastically as she started off in the other direction.

 

* * *

 

She entered the locker room, staring down at her phone in her hands, tapping out a message to the S.H.I.E.L.D hanger, requesting that a certain plane be prepared for take-off. She had a duffle bag over her shoulder and she was still dressed in her uniform. Steve and Sam were packing spare changes of clothes into their own bags when she walked in. Steve was in the process of changing out of his shirt, now covered with rubble and ash from the recent attack, his back turned to her. “You boys ready?” she asked, locking and lowering her phone.

“Y’know, back in my day, people knocked before entering a private room,” Steve said.

“So do people in my day, I’m just rude,” Olivia replied. He huffed a laugh in response. She opened her mouth to add something but her words were replaced with a cry of pain. "Damn." She muttered to herself. She glanced down to see an iconic shield under her foot that had flown up into her shin when she stepped on the edge of it. She stepped off of it, grabbed the shield and leaned it up against the wall. "Watch where you leave that thing. It wasn't dredged out of the Potomac just so you could leave it on the floor," she said, wryly.

"So, where are we going?" Sam asked, zipping up his bag.

"Up," she answered. "From up in the air, we can get a better satellite vantage point. We can track him better from up there."

"Whatever you think will help us find him faster," Steve said, turning to her before throwing his t-shirt over his head. A beat passed and he flashed Olivia a look, one that almost looked expectant, expecting her to explain more about her plan to find him but instead she just stared back at him, noticing his physique and the perfect way his dog tags hung around his neck, resting on his muscular test but not reacting in the slightest.

"What?" she asked, before scoffing. "Really? You think you’re the first pretty boy to flash his abs at me? Oh no, if you're trying to get me to swoon, you're going to have to try harder than that, Spangles," she said, smirking and sauntering confidently toward the door. He opened his mouth to deny it but she cut him off before he could get a word out. "Now, come on! We're low on time!"

Olivia led them to the aircraft hanger, where agents were scrambling around in their usual busyness. The place was filled with maybe twenty or twenty-five planes, all of which looked pretty beat up and were being repaired. [The largest of the planes, however,](http://shieldtv.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/The-Bus-Top-View.jpg) was off in the center of the tarmac. 

Olivia grinned upon seeing the plane, before calling out toward the sparks of a blowtorch that was buzzing on the roof of the cockpit. "Jake!" she yelled her voice echoing off of the walls of the hanger.

The blowtorch stopped before a man glanced over the side of the plane, lifting up his protective mask and grinning. He wasn't necessarily young but he smiled friendly and moved around the plane agilely. "Liv?" he said, in happy disbelief. She smiled back. He slid off of the roof, joining them on the floor before wrapping Olivia in a tight hug. "You're back!" he said, excited. The man was in his mid-thirties, had dark hair and wore a classic 'top-gun' type jump suit.

"I'm back!" she said, laughing.

"How've you been?"

"Alright. I'm alright. How's my baby been?" she asked, looking up at the plane.

"Baby?" Sam asked, in disbelief. "A Boeing C-17 Globemaster III is your ' _baby_?'"

"Yep," Olivia said, proudly but not smugly. She slapped the plane's hull, causing an echo to ripple out into the buzzing hanger. "Got her for my sixteenth birthday."

Sam whistled in awe. "Lucky."

"Being the director's 'daughter' has its perks," she replied.

"I'm sorry, a Boeing what?" Steve asked.

"It means it's a big-ass plane," Olivia stated. "S.H.I.E.L.D. got a couple on their hands about ten years ago." Then, she turned her attention back to the man who was working on her plane. "How's she been, Jake?"

"She's running like she was ten years ago. She's in good shape," Jake said, proudly. "Been working on-" Another voice called out Jake's name. He turned to Olivia and opened his mouth to explain why he had to end the conversation early.

She nodded understandingly, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "It's fine, duty calls. Go, we'll catch up later," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," he muttered, starting toward the voice. She turned back to the plane but Jake spoke up again. "Hey, Liv?" she turned to him again. "...It's good to have you back," he said with a half-smile. She gave him a lazy, two-fingered salute and started toward the plane again.

"Boys, this is a CXD 23 Airborne Mobile Command Station a.k.a [The Cage](http://wiki.shieldtv.net/images/6/6c/Bus_Blueprints.jpg)," she said, stepping up onto the cargo loading ramp and leading them into the plane.

"'The Cage?'' Steve asked.

She smiled with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, when I was a teenage, I had a whole 'I know why the caged bird sings' attitude toward my job; me, being the bird, and this being-"

"The Cage," Steve and her said in unison.

She turned and snapped lazily in his direction. "Exactly."

"...Hey, Livie," another voice called, affectionately, this time from inside the plane, up on the floor above them. She stopped in her tracks. 

She sighed up at the dark-haired man, leaning against the railing with a smug smirk on his face. "Ryan," she greeted, not so convincingly. "What the hell are you doing on my plane?" she asked, flatly, a strange mixture of calm and angry in her voice.

"Nick sent me," The brunet said, climbing down the spiral staircase, his black boots thumping loudly.

She sighed again before muttering to herself, rather loudly, "Of course he did..." she pointed over her shoulder casually. "Ryan, this is Sam Wilson and Captain Rogers. Guys, Ryan Young," she introduced them brushing past the muscular (and evidently antagonizing) brunet and stepping up to a set of glass doors, tapping a few numbers into the keypad on the wall.

Ryan's eyes went wide. "W-wait, like  _the_  Captain Rogers? O-Oh my God, sir, it-it's amazing to meet you!" he stuttered eagerly, reaching out his hand. Poor Steve practically had his arm torn off when Ryan shook his hand.

Olivia, who had entered her lab, set her bags down on a table and begun unpacking her bags, took out her gun from the waistband of her skirt, not realizing how threatening she appeared, cocked it and without ever looking over her shoulder at them, warned, "Don't fan-girl on me."

He ignored her warning and continued his excited wide-eyed babbling. "You- you're the reason I join S.H.I.E.L.D. Ever since I was a kid, I've been wanting to be a pilot and, hearing your story was an amazing inspiration. It's truly an honor to have you on board, sir," he stated, still shaking Steve's hand widely. Steve opened his mouth to say thanks but Olivia felt the need to intervene.

She slapped a hand on Ryan's shoulder, pulling him away from his idol. "Come on, you're making him uncomfortable." She began pushing him toward the spiral staircase. "Wheels up in five," she ordered.

He dug his heels in. "But, it's Captain America!" he protested.

"Now!” she said sternly, shoving him forward and he gave in and rushed up the stairs. She turned back to Sam and Steve. "Sorry about him."

"It's no trouble," Steve said.

"Nice to meet you, too!" Sam called after being entirely ignored by Ryan.

"Don't worry. There will be another opportunity for him to annoy you," Olivia answered.

"...Great," Sam muttered.

The plane lifted off, flying out of the base.

* * *

When they had packed their things away in the crew quarters upstairs, Sam and Steve went down to Olivia's lab where music was blaring loudly:  _Thanks for The Memories_  by Fall Out Boy. 

 _One night and one more time_  
_Thanks for the memories_  
_Even though they weren't so great_  
_He tastes like you only sweeter_

They peered around the corner and found the lab to be empty. "...Ma'am?" Steve called.

Olivia's head popped up from behind the lab table in the center of the room. "Yes?" she said, waving her hand at the stereo and the music quieting. "Sorry, my music can be pretty intimidating...Even to people of my own generation. What's up?" she asked, standing, brushing her hair out of her face.

"I thought you said you were looking for him," he said, almost warningly, glancing around at the lab where the boxes and unpacked lab equipment gave the impression that nothing was going on.

"I am. It's called multi-tasking, Rogers," she defended.

"We're a little pressed for time, don't you think? Now isn't exactly the time to be listening to music and-" he chastised.

"Music helps clear my head. Trust me, I'm focused," she said.

"So, then what exactly are you-"

Olivia glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who was curiously fiddling with a device on one of the counters. "I wouldn't play with that if I were you, unless you want to be injected with a deadly neurotoxin..." she warned.

Sam cautiously backed away. "You really should put a warning sticker on that thing or something..." he suggested.

"Sorry, I'm not exactly used to having other people in here," she admitted, a bit quietly.

"Well, we're happy to get out of your hair, we just want to know where he is," Steve replied.

"Currently, I'm sweeping all of the cameras that can be wirelessly accessed: laptops, security cameras, cell phones, anything I can get my hands on, but nothing yet," she said, motioning toward one of the three computer screens hanging on the wall that was quietly running facial recognition software. "My guess is they went underground, only using old-school, analog stuff, completely untraceable."

"So, satellites can't find him," Sam concluded. 

"Not at the moment."

"So, you lost him. You don't have any leads?" Steve asked.

Olivia raised a finger in the air. "I have one," she stepped over to the largest of the three monitors and began typing things in. "Before he was taken, Bucky told me he kept seeing a face, told me he was terrified of it. I managed to get a glimpse of him, tried my best to memorize it the best I could..." Faces popped up on the screen, thousands scrolling through the screen. "And, now, I'm searching through S.H.I.E.L.D. databases trying to find him. But it could take me hours before I find him, if he's even here.

"Can't you run a face trace?" 

"I don't have a physical picture of him, just a mental image, there's no way for me to get it into the computer," she said, nervously biting at the nail on her index finger, never taking her eyes off of the screen. 

An idea popped into his head. He glanced around the room before finding a sheet of paper and a pencil. "This guy, what’s he look like?"

She sighed, closing her eyes, trying to remember. “Dark hair, black eyes; _like a doll’s eyes_ …” she said, laughing quietly to herself. “It’s from-“

“ _Jaws._ I know, I saw it," he quickly explained. “What about age? Race? Defining features?”

“Caucasian, early to mid-forties, about a two inch scar above his left eyebrow, crooked nose…” she said.

“What about his facial structure?” Steve asked as Sam curiously looked over his shoulder.

“Strong jaw line, big forehead, very…Easter-Island head-y,” she explained. She turned toward him, her brow furrowing, “What are you-"

He turned the page over, setting it down on the table, revealing the sketch of the man. “That him?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, it is,” she said, a bit astonished, taking the paper into her hands and examining it. “…Your file didn’t say anything about your drawing skills.”

“It’s not a skill, it’s just a doodle,” Steve said.

“Doodles are stick-figures, this is _not_ a doodle,” she said. She laid the sheet of paper face down on the table between them. “But, if we scan it into the computer…” A bright light swept across the table and a 3D scan of the sketch appeared. Olivia raised her hands and moved the scan into the large monitor. “…We can use it for a face trace…Rogers, you’re a genius.” The computer began buzzing away, scanning through faces.

“Just trying to help,” he said, being modest.

She snorted, flashing a smirk over her shoulder at him. “Looks like the rumors are true. You’re just a big, muscle-y boy scout, aren’t you?”

“Frankly, that’s a huge misrepresentation. I’m not a goody two shoes,” He defended.

“No goody two shoes would lie on his enlistment form, _five times_. No, you break the rules, you just don’t admit it.” He huffed a wry laugh in response. “Oh, so you _can_ laugh. People always said you were a sour puss.”

“I’m an old man, I have every right to be grumpy,” he replied.

The computer beeped loudly and they all turned to the monitor where they saw the man walking calmly through city streets. She smirked, “We’ve got him. Demitri “Otets (Father)” Reznicof. Strong ties with Hydra related agencies, and connections to the psychological community. He’s been suspected of being involved with the Russian Mafia for the past twenty-five years. Been arrested from everything to petty larceny to manslaughter but he’s gotten off on all of the charges. Family is loaded, he’s got some of the best lawyers in the country.”

“And, what does he have to do with Bucky?”

“Well, Bucky recognized him and in some of his pre-detox memories, _he_ was there,” she said, pointing up at the man. “And, with his extensive research on neurotoxins, he is most likely the one who drugged him. So, if Hydra does have Bucky-“

“He’s going to know about it,” Sam concluded.

“Can you guys go tell Ryan to set a course for Chicago? I’ll stay down here, keep an eye on Otets and keep looking for Bucky.”

 

* * *

 

Sam and Steve entered the cockpit to see Ryan sitting at the controls, a pair of aviators over his eyes. “Young? Agent Ridder wants you to set a course for Chicago.” Sam said.

“Copy that. Although, a word to the wise, don’t call her ‘Ritter.’ She hates it,” Ryan replied.

“That’s her last name, isn’t it?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, she just doesn’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause it’s German. I asked her about it once, she told me it reminded her of home but she never told me anything more.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. Then, he turned to Sam, whispering, “An enhanced human telepath who has a German last name…any of this sound a little fishy to you?”

“More like a bit _familiar,_ ” Sam replied, an image of Wanda sweeping into his head.

“Don’t worry about Liv, though, she’s been dealing with Hydra since she was born. Trust me, if anyone knows Hydra, it’s her,” Ryan added, still staring out at the white clouds in the cockpit window.

Steve flashed a pointed look over at Sam before the two of them stormed out of the cockpit, toward Olivia’s lab.

* * *

 

When she heard the door open, she huffed a laugh, seeing an opportunity to break out her sarcasm, before muttering, “Y’know, back in my day, people knocked before entering a –“ She was cut off when Steve turned her around and shoved her against the wall. She groaned when her head hit the metal wall, before she blew a stray hair out of her face and said, “So much for boy scout, huh?”

“You’re Hydra!” Steve yelled, accusingly.

Her brow furrowed before she sighed. “…Damn it, Ryan…” she muttered. “I can explain.”

“The hell you can!” Sam said.

“I _was_ Hydra. I’m not anymore.”

Sam scoffed. “Oh, sure.”

“It’s true!” she said.

“You can come up with a better lie than that.”

“I’m. Not. Lying,” she said through gritted teeth, trying and succeeding in seeming terrifying.

“Then, why keep it a secret? Why not tell us unless you had something to hide?” Steve asked.

“That’s my protocol!” she answered.

“Protocol?”

“Yes! According to the government, I don’t even exist. My job is to keep myself as secret as possible for my own protection. Could you imagine what intelligence agencies would do to get their hands on a mind-reader?”

“Can you imagine what Hydra could do with a mind-reader who has infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“How do we know you’re not with them anymore? How do we know we can trust you?” Sam added.

“I’m sorry, but aren’t I the one trying to help find Bucky? I’m trying to help _you._ ”

“Maybe you’re taking him back to Hydra. Maybe you and Ryan are leading us to an ambush,” Steve said.

“Why would I do that?”

“To get us out of the way. This is your plane. You control where it goes.”

She scoffed. “You’re reaching, Rogers.”

“Am I?”

“If I was with them, why would I have helped Bucky remember? He remembers you, how could I get him to turn against you and join Hydra?” she defended

“…I want the truth. All of it. Now," Steve ordered, his voice deepening.

She raised an eyebrow up at him, huffing a laugh. “Something tells me you won’t believe me,” she said wryly.

Steve slammed her against the wall again, not enough to hurt her but enough to try and scare her. “ _Try me,_ ” he growled.

Her eyes locked onto his and her navy blue glare turned soft before she calmly stated, “…Hydra killed me.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“They killed me,” she repeated with her unique calm-anger. “They did this to me,” she said, as blue energy danced across her eyes. “I was born there, my parents and I were held prisoner for _years._  I was one of Struker’s first prototypes. They experimented on me, trained me, and turned me into their weapon. They forced me to hurt, _to kill_ ; I knew it was wrong but I didn’t know anything else.” Steve’s grip on her shoulders loosened but only slightly. “If I resisted their orders, they beat me, tortured me, starved me. They killed my parents in cold blood, right in front of me because I refused to hurt people…” Steve’s eyes went wide when he saw tears welling up in her eyes but she quickly blinked them away. “ _I was barely six..._ ” she added, her jaw clenching. “I burned that base to the ground, and I left nothing but ash on that mountain top. After I took my revenge, I escaped. I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I was good. I was helping people…or, at least, I thought I was. Guess I can’t tell the difference anymore,” she stated remorsefully. “Then, they came after me, _again._ They tried to control me, _again._ They killed my family, _again._ They made me their monster, _again._ Why in hell would I go back to them?” Steve and Sam just stared at her, dumbfounded. There was no way she was lying, no one can just make up a story like that. “… **Do you trust me now?** ”

Suddenly, alarms began blaring and the room went red as emergency lights began flashing. Then, Ryan’s voice came over the PA system. “Liv, we’ve got a problem!”


	5. Searches and Secrets- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, Olivia's past is out, but the job still has to be completed. Can they learn to trust her?

They all exchanged looks before Olivia ran off, Steve and Sam following after. They all raced up the spiral staircase and then the plane leaned, causing them all to slam against the metal railing. Olivia groaned, pealing herself up and running toward the cockpit followed by Sam and Steve.

Upon reaching the nose of the plane, Olivia kicked open the door. “What’s going on?” she asked Ryan, who was gripping at the controls, gritting his teeth.

“Two bogies on our tail. 500 feet and closing,” he stated.

Olivia sat down in the copilot seat, taking control of the planes defenses. “Buckle up, boys. This is gonna be rough,” she warned as Sam and Steve strapped themselves into the seats behind them. “Ever flown defensively?” she asked Ryan.

“Not in something this big,” Ryan replied, panicked.

“I have,” Sam said.

“Take the wheel,” Olivia ordered calmly. He stood, unstrapping himself quickly.

“What?!” Ryan said, eyes going wide. “He’s not qualified to-“

“So help me God, if you don’t get out of that damned seat right now, I will wave you from the back of this bird like banner!” she threatened through gritted teeth and he practically jumped out of his seat and Sam took his place.

Olivia picked up the radio. “S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, this is CXD247. We’ve got two long-range missiles on our tail. 400 feet and closing. Please advise, over."

“Our reports show no allied air forces in the area,” A voice buzzed over the speaker.

“Permission to engage?”

“Granted.”

“Bank left,” Olivia ordered and Sam followed. The missiles turned with the plane, staying on its tail. “They’re heat-seeking,” she concluded. “Just have to try and shake ‘em.”

“Liv, everything alright?” A familiar voice buzzed over the radio. Nick.

Sam banked right hard, causing everything to shift. “Not really,” Olivia replied.

“You got Wilson on the controls?”

“Yep,” Sam replied, pressing a few buttons.

“Where are these from?” Olivia asked.

“Not anyone we know,” was Nick’s only response.

“…Great.,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “Engaging flares,” she flipped a switch and flares were deployed which managed to distract one of the missiles, turning it off of their tail. “Just keep our distance, I might be able to try something.” Olivia’s voice was calm but serious. On the inside she was terrified but she’ll be damned if she let it show. “Hey, Nick? Did Jake ever finish making those improvements we talked about?”

“I can’t say for sure.”

“Alright,” Olivia flipped open one of the buttons, one that sharpie writing on it that simply read ‘guard dog’, whatever the hell that means, “Let’s hope this doesn’t explode.”

“WHAT,” Steve yelled but it was too late and she pressed the button.

Two counter -attack missiles ejected from each of the wings and shot forward, flying just out in front of the cockpit. Then, the missile followed their heat trail, crashing into one of them and causing a huge explosion that rattled the entire plane and that was visible through the cockpit window. Once the smoke cleared, Olivia glanced down at the radar, seeing that it was clear before asking, “Is everyone alright?”

“I’m good.” Sam replied. “Cap?”

“…Peachy,” Steve replied, wryly.

“Ry?” Olivia asked, begrudgingly caring about the annoying, frat-boy pilot.

“Fine,” he replied, his fingernails still digging into the arms of his seat.

“Nick, we’re good. Targets eliminated. Where’d those things come from?”

“No idea, but whoever it is, they don’t want us going after Barnes.”

“Three guesses who,” Steve remarked.

“They know we’re after him, which means they’ve probably put Otets under heavy security.”

“So much for being stealthy,” Sam said.

“We can’t just waltz up to him. Not anymore. If anything, we have to be even stealthier. But, as of now, this is our only lead, we screw this up, and we’ll lose him,” Olivia explained.

“I just got him back, there’s no way I’m losing him again,” Steve stated, unbuckling himself and leaving the cockpit. Olivia sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

 She turned and looked at Sam. "Is he always this dramatic?"

* * *

Brock sat at his desk in a room that overlooked the factory, bouncing his leg up and down, nervously waiting and watching as his prisoners worked below him.

“Sir?” a voice peeped from behind him.

“WHAT?!” Brock screamed.

“I’m-I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t-“

“What is it?”

“The missiles were shot down before they could latch on and take control of the plane.”

“So you lost her?!”

“We don’t have her current location, no, but we believe we knew what her next move is.”

“Yes?”

“She may be going after Otets.”

“And, what of the asset?”

“He’s been properly…taken care of.”

“Good…Agent…Invite him to the party.” He said with a quiet smile.

* * *

 “Hi,” Olivia said, hearing Steve and Sam enter the lab.

“You know where Otets is?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly, but I know where he will be,” she answered.

“Oh, can you see the future now, too?” Steve muttered, not realizing he had said it loud enough for her to hear.

“Hilarious, Rogers,” she replied sarcastically. Steve had a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And, actually, I’m just examining his psychology,” she began. “He moved to Chicago from Kiev at the end of The Cold War, after, we assume, he finished drugging Bucky. Our intelligence tells us that during that time, every morning at 10 a.m., he goes into this coffee shop, has a cup of coffee, two pieces of toast and he’s out by 10:45. Over the course of 50-some years, he’s only missed this daily appointment twice: When he was in the hospital for a kidney transplant and when he had a heart attack on the subway ride there. Even when he was being investigated by the CIA, he never missed a beat. He, like most men his age, _love_ routine. So-“

“He’ll go even if his life is in danger,” Steve concluded.

“Exactly.”

“Must be one hell of a coffee,” Sam remarked.

“He’s obsessive compulsive but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. He’ll be guarded, _heavily._ So, we’ve just got to be careful.”

“Twenty armed Russian agents, in a coffee shop full of civilians, we have to be _very careful,"_ Steve added.

* * *

The plane was landed in a field outside of the city, in the surrounding forests.

Sam and Steve were wearing civilian clothes; Steve was in a dark-brown leather jacket, khakis, white t-shirt and gray tennis shoes. Sam wore a light-gray t-shirt, dark-wash jeans and black tennis shoes.

Olivia emerged from the spiral stairs, walking into the more casual living quarters where Sam and Steve were sitting on the couches. She wore a bright blue tank top under a black leather jacket, black skinny jeans and black high-heeled booties. She wore darker, but thinner black eyeliner that her uniform prohibited along with her red lipstick and black nail polish. Her long hair was still curled but her stubborn, naturally-pin-straight hair was growing looser and looser; her tight curls were now loose waves. Steve’s eye was caught when she walked in, once again seeing something familiar in her. That feeling of ‘déjá-vu’ only strengthened when she pulled a pistol out of a drawer, cocked it and tucked it into the waist-band of her jeans.

Ryan emerged from the cockpit. “You’re good,” he said to Olivia.

“Let’s go, boys.” They all stood and followed Olivia down the spiral staircase. Olivia grabbed a duffle bag and began packing a few things into it from the drawers in her lab. “I’ll drive, if you guys don’t mind.”

“Hey, Liv?” Ryan called from up on the spiral staircase. She glanced up at him, her curled hair whipping over her shoulder. “You free this Saturday?”

“No, I’m not,” she replied, flatly, narrowing her eyes. She lifted the trunk of one of the SUV’s waiting outside her lab, at the base of the stairs and stuffed the duffle bag into it.

Steve glanced at the two of them, a confused look on his face. “Are you two…?” he began quietly.

“Fondue-ing?” Olivia asked, flicking an eyebrow up at him with a smug smirk. She slammed the trunk shut. “Hell no.” Then she shouted back up at Ryan. “He wishes we were, though!”

“Stay out of my head, Liv,” Ryan said, trying to gather his pride and turning back to the front of the plane.

“Then, keep me out of your filthy thoughts, Ry!” she called back. Then, she quietly muttered, “Or, at least, keep them ‘PG.’” Steve heard her mutter this and only glanced back up at Ryan, absentmindedly narrowing his eyes up at him.

Olivia sat in the driver’s seat, Steve next to her and Sam in the back. She threw on a pair of aviators, started the car, pulled out of the plane and began revving toward the city. Music began playing over the radio. This time it was _That’s What You Get_ by Paramore.

_No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore._

_It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score._

_And why do we like to hurt so much?_

_I can't decide_

_You have made it harder just to go on_

_And why, all the possibilities, well I was wrong_

_That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa._

 

Olivia hummed along quietly. Sam was the first to break the silence. “Can I ask you a question, Liv?”

“Only one?” she replied.

“When you read someone’s mind, do you only see what they’re currently thinking, or can you see their memories?”

“Both. But, some people’s memories are harder to break than others. But, I can get through,” she answered.

“How? Shock their heads with that…blue stuff?”

She sighed. “Psychological leading.”

“In English?”

“Quick! Don’t think about elephants! Now, what’s the first thing your head went to?”

“Elephants.”

“Exactly.”

“Gotcha…So, you can see into my thoughts?”

“I thought we’ve already established that,” she laughed wryly.

“So, what am I thinking about?”

“I’m not playing twenty questions with you, if that’s what you’re doing.”

“Alright, alright, fine. How about this, what’s the strangest thing you’ve heard someone think?”

She snorted. “You don’t want to know what people think. Trust me, you’d be amazed at what people do when no one’s watching. If you got into someone’s head, you’d realize how bad people actually are, how much they lie…” She spoke softly, this bothered her, but she was doing a good job of hiding it.

“That’s a pretty cynical thing to say,” Steve remarked.

“I don’t know. If you could see every secret people keep, every lie they’ve told; see every dark thing they’ve tried to hide, could you really blame me for being a cynic?” she asked, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“She’s got a point,” Sam said.

“She does,” Olivia replied, smirking.

“I don’t think I could handle knowing what everyone thinks about me. Somethings are better left unsaid.”

“Ignorance is bliss…But, after a while, you get used to it,” she spoke that last bit with the smallest amount of remorse and pain in her voice, something Steve picked up on. But, she ended the conversation there, not saying anything more. _A mind-reader amongst spies…She must get pretty tired of liars,_ Steve thought.

 _I wonder, how am I supposed to feel when you're not here?_  
'Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here.  
I still try, holding onto silly things, I never learn  
Oh why, all the possibilities I'm sure you've heard.  
  
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.  
That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.  
I drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating (beating)  
And that's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa.  
  
Pain make your way to me, to me.  
And I'll always be just so inviting.  
If I ever start to think straight,  
This heart will start a riot in me,  
Let's start, start, hey!

* * *

 

The group arrived at the café and they all took a seat at one of the tables set up outside the café. Olivia glanced down at her watch. 9:51 AM. “He’s got ten minutes.”

“You sure he’s not here already?” Sam asked, glancing around the rest of the crowded café.

“I’m pretty sure we’d see his security,” Steve answered.

“It’s pretty hard to miss a dozen meat-heads in suits and sunglasses,” Olivia added.

A waitress approached them, blindly, absentmindedly staring down at something was scribbling down on the notepad she had in hand. Without looking up at them, she asked, blandly, “What can I get you?” smacking her gum.

“Three coffees, please,” Olivia replied, friendly.

The waitress wrote down the order before momentarily flicking her eyes up at Steve who was casually glancing around the café, taking a worrisome note of all the civilians who were going to be in Otets path. Her eyes went wide, her lis parted. Olivia began preparing to make up an excuse, in case the waitress recognized Steve. But, instead, her whole demeanor changed in a snap. She stood up straight, plastered a sweet, wide smile on her face and ran her fingers through her hair, nervously. In a higher-pitched, happier voice, she replied, cheerfully, “I’ll get that right up for you!” She quickly walked back into the café.

As soon as she was out of sight, Olivia let out a snort before grinning widely. “Do you always get ogled like that?” she asked Steve, trying to hold back her laughter.

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing, as he turned his attention away from the endangered civilians and back to Olivia.

She returned his confused look before stating, “That girl. She was practically head over heels over you…” Steve shrugged slightly. “Wow, you really didn’t notice that, did you?”

“He’s not used to getting ogled,” Sam explained, “Let’s keep in mind, at one point, he was 5’1” and 90 pounds.”

Steve shot Sam a hard look but Olivia interjected: “Skinny Steve sounds adorable,’” she concluded.

Steve chuckled lightly at the nickname. “Skinny Steve?”

She shrugged in reply. “Now, what you have to explain to me is how ‘Skinny Steve’ was the one picking fights with everything that moved, meanwhile, the future Russian assassin was going to science fairs for fun.”

This earned an actual laugh from the blond, a smile creeping across his face which soon faded into worry. Olivia noticed and wanted to mend the situation. She put her elbows on the table and leaned forward, an attempt at sincerity, which worked when her calm, sure voice said, “We’re going to find him, Rogers.” Steve nodded in reply. Olivia watched as he kept that worried expression on his face. She opened her mouth to say something else when something over his shoulder caught her eye: two very large men, standing on either side of a shorter, older, Easter-Island-Head- looking man. She recognized his face immediately. She set her lips in a neutral, straight line, shooting the man a blank, analyzing stare as she sat back in her chair.

Steve noticed the sudden change in her demeanor and felt the need to speak up. “Liv, what is it?”

“He just walked in,” she answered calmly, as if she were speaking about the weather.

“What do we do?” Sam asked, in a hushed tone.

“First of all, act natural," she replied, calmly. “Rogers, got any ideas?”

“They’re too close to him. There’s no way we can get to him…Not without causing a scene and putting civilians in the line of fire," he concluded.

Olivia glanced around before she noticed a black sedan parked on the other side of the street. “Yes, there is.”

A hand was placed on the car door’s handle and a surge of blue energy went through it and the car unlocked with a click.

Otets sipped quietly on his coffee as he quietly scanned for the blonde woman he had been warned about. Once he finished he stood, turned to his security and said,” Увидеть? Я сказал вам, что она не придет за мной. Тессера не знаю, что существует. Теперь, возьмите меня домой.” _See? I told you she wouldn't come after me. Tessera doesn't know I exist. Now, take me home._ And, the agents escorted him back to his car.

When the car door was swung open, Otets jumped at the sight of a blonde woman, sitting casually in the back seat of the sedan. “Привет, Отец” _Hello, Otets._ She said boldly.

The agents immediately pulled their weapons and Olivia drew hers too, her arm up, her glowing palm aimed up at them, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you," she added with a smirk. As they considered what to do, Steve grabbed one of them by his shoulder, yanking him away from Otets. He wrapped his arm around the agent’s neck and used his knee to knock the gun out of his hand, catching it with his free hand. The other agent aimed his gun up at Steve who then swung up his leg and kicked it out of the agent’s hand. He, then, grabbed a hold of the agent under his arm and whipped him into the brick wall next to them. Then, the second agent attacked, but Steve quickly ended the threat by flipping the agent over and knocking his head onto the cement sidewalk while, simultaneously grabbing the gun that he had discarded. He stood, eyes narrowing into a glare directed at Otets.

Otets, seeing no other options, raised his hands in surrender. Olivia threw on a Russian accent, saying “Come. Get in car. We go for ride.” Steve took the man by his collar and stuffed him in the back seat, taking the seat next to him closing the door behind them, forcing Otets between him and Olivia.

“Drive,” Olivia ordered to Sam who had taken the front seat. The car started and drove off into the street.

“Who are you?” Otets asked.

“You know exactly who we are. They warned you about us,” Olivia answered. She grabbed him by the jaw, turning his head toward her, so she could see his eyes. Her eyes glowed blue for a moment before they returned to their normal navy blue and her lips parted.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“They _did_ warn you about me, didn’t they?” Olivia asked Otets, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I’ll be damned if I let you into my head. They taught me well, you’re not getting anything out of me," he muttered.

Olivia flashed Steve an eye roll. He glanced up at her, almost as if he was asking for permission. She nodded slightly. He reacted by wrapping an arm around Otets’ neck and using his other hand to shove the barrel of the gun into Otets’ temple. Otets gasped for air. “Where is he?” Olivia asked, calmly yet forcefully.

“Don’t know…who you’re….talking about…” he answered, struggling for air.

“Yes, you do. Tell me," she ordered again. He just kept gasping for a breath. “Y’know, it’s pretty hard to focus on blocking me out when you can’t breathe.” Steve took this as a signal to tighten his grip around Otets’ neck. “…Or with a bullet in your head…” Olivia added and Steve cocked the gun.

“They took him! Don’t know where!” Otets cried, frantically.

Olivia’s eyes glowed blue again momentarily. Then, she glanced up at Steve, her brow raised slightly in surprise.

Before she could say anything, Sam glanced at the rear-view mirror to see two black SUV’s following them. “Guys, we’ve got company!”

Olivia glanced back at them. “…Shit. Sam, take as many turns as you can, see if you can lose them. Just don’t lead them back to the plane!” Then, she pressed down on her necklace, causing the blue pendant in the center to glow. “Ry, how long until you can have the wheels up?”

“Three minutes," he replied over the speaker in her necklace.

“Do better.”

Sam punched it and the car began carefully dodging through traffic. “Just stop! Let me out and they won’t touch you!” Otets reasoned.

Sam scoffed, “Liv, he’s lying, right?”

“Yep. Shut up and drive,” Olivia replied.

Steve saw an agent lean out of the window of the SUV behind them, machine gun in hand and screamed, “Get down!”

Bullets exploded through the back windshield and Steve Olivia and Otets ducked behind the seat. Sam tried his best to avoid the bullets, swerving the car from side to side. Olivia raised an arm up and a field of energy gathered on her forearm, acting as a shield. She brought her arm up, stopping the bullets from flying through the seat and into one of their skulls. The fire ceased as they stopped to reload and Olivia jumped up, grabbing her gun from her waistband and firing up at them. While her aim was spot on, right between the driver’s eyes, the bulletproof glass stopped the flying metal from reaching its target. She began shooting for their tires when the car went over a bridge. The machine gun reappeared and they all ducked down again. Steve noticed that on the other side of the bridge, waiting was a second SUV, another machine gun aiming up at them. He grabbed a hold of the steering wheel and turned it sharply, causing the car to swerve out of the way. Machine-gun fire was coming at them from both sides and they managed to blow out their tires. The car swerved uncontrollably before tuning on its side and flipping over and over, stopping upside-down, it’s roof on the ground.

When the smoke cleared and the air bags deflated, agents swarmed the car, pulling out Otets and making sure he wasn’t seriously injured. Sam and Steve had some scrapes but other than being in a bit of a daze, they were fine. Steve glanced over at Olivia who was lying face down on the ground, not moving. “Agent Ritter? Are you alright?” he called, trying to assess the extent of her injuries but she didn’t answer. “Agent Ritter?…Liv?” Agents snatched Sam and Steve, pulling them from the wreckage. They didn’t resist, considering that there were guns pointed to the back of their heads. They flipped Olivia over and dragged her still body out of the car. Steve watched as they dragged her out by her arms and laid her out on the concrete. She was blood dripping from her nose and the corner of her mouth; she had internal injuries. On the other side of the car, the agents forced Sam and Steve to their knees. Four more cars, two on either side of the fork at the end of the bridge, drove up. Two agents surrounded Olivia’s lifeless body, lowering their guns. The knelt down to her and one reached down to feel for a pulse. Before the agent even touched her, she sprung up, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck and slamming his head down into the concrete. The second reacted by aiming his gun down at her but she kicked her leg up into his face, grabbing the barrel of his rifle and moving it away from her head. Then, she pushed the butt of the gun into his head, causing him to stumble backward. She rolled over her shoulders, bringing her crouching over the concrete. She flipped her hair up out of her face before raising a hand and blasting the agent over the bridge, gun falling with him. Steve jumped at her movement, attacking the agents behind him and Sam. He sprung up to his feet, turning toward the gun aimed at his head. He snatched the gun, twisting the agent’s arm back while kicking the other agent’s gun out of his hands and away from Sam. Olivia blasted down a crowd of twenty-some armed agents as Steve pulled Sam to his feet. They all began running toward the five cars at the end of the bridge, two on each side and one at the fork of the two roads. Getting a head start, Olivia was leading as she ran toward the firefight. They all began firing at her and she raised both arms into an ‘x’, energy spanning over her forearms and acting as a shield from the bullets. They hit the blue energy field and stopped dead in their tracks, the crumpled shells falling to Olivia’s feet. With her right hand, she blasted down agents as she shielded herself with her left. Sam and Steve followed behind. As they came closer and closer, Olivia knocked down more and more agents but the agents behind them, on the other end of the bridge, were recomposing themselves. They began firing at their backs and bullets whizzed past Sam and Steve’s ears.

“Liv?!” Sam yelled, trying to get her attention.

She glanced over her shoulder, still shielding herself. With her right hand, she blasted out a ray of blue energy that lifted the wrecked car, swiping her glowing hand up before retracting her arm and snapping it back out with a grunt of effort, causing the car to go flying, blue energy trailing behind it as it crashed into the crowd of agents. She turned back to the group of SUV’s, still firing at them. She sent out a blast from each hand, taking out the remaining agents. They all ran toward an SUV waiting at the fork in the road. Olivia jumped in the driver’s seat, Sam next to her. Steve crawled in the back and threw the unconscious agent waiting there on the floor through the sun roof. Olivia sped off, away from the bridge and into the forest. “Watch your six, Rogers. No one ever gets away that easy," she warned.

When they finally found the plane, Olivia brought the car to a screeching halt. They all raced out of the car and into the open bay door as the plane began lifting off. They all practically jumped into the moving hunk of metal. The bay door closed and once the wind stopped whipping them around, they all leaned up against the remaining black SUV still parked in the plane, panting for air.

“You call that easy?!” Sam yelled.

Olivia laughed wryly. “Welcome to Espionage," she said, smirking as she wiped the blood from her nose and mouth with the back of her hand. “You guys alright?”

“I’m good. Sam?” Steve asked.

“Fine," he replied.

“You good, Liv?”

“Just dandy,” Olivia replied, a bit surprised he used her nickname, before quickly reminding herself that he had heard everyone call her that and next to no one called her ‘Agent Ritter’ or ‘Ma’am.’

“You sure? You’re bleeding pretty bad-”

“Don’t worry about me, Rogers. If those guys were going to believe I was actually hurt, they had to think I had internal injuries. So…” She stuck out her tongue to show the small but deep cut across the pink muscle, made by her teeth.

“Damn…” Sam muttered.

“You faked the blood,” Steve concluded.

“No, it was my blood, just didn’t come from where they thought it did,” Olivia explained.

“Damn, girl, you’re even more terrifying than I thought,” Sam said exactly what Steve was thinking.

Then, Steve’s attitude changed. He slammed his fist down on his knee before yelling, “Damn it! This is just great!”

Olivia knew what was bothering him and waved him down, trying to calm him. “Relax, Rogers.”

“Relax?!” I just risked my life and we’re no closer to finding him!”

“You risk your life all the time, I figured you’d be comfortable with it by now,” Olivia replied, sassily.

“We don’t know where he is!”

“Yes, we do!” Olivia shouted. “…Or, where he will be.”

“What are you-?”

“I read him! Otets!” She had their full attention now. “There’s a party, a meeting of all of Hydra’s benefactors, their supporters, happening tonight. In Paris. Otets was invited and so was Brock. My guess is Bucky will be there. Brock never misses a chance to brag and he’s going to use Bucky as Hydra’s selling point, showing off their ‘capabilities’ will earn them more cash," she explained.

“Otets knows where he is?”

“Yes! The idiot was lying! He was invited to make sure they could keep Bucky under control, sedate him if things got out of hand. He’s the one who sedated him in the first place, he’d know how to do it again.”

“…And, we just let him get away.”

“Well, excuse me, _Captain_. I wasn’t exactly planning on taking hostages when I had machine guns pointed at my head!” she snapped. “…If we took Otets, Brock would know we’re after him, he’ll move Bucky, maybe even wipe him again, and, this time, it could be permanent… This way Brock doesn’t know we’re onto him and we still have the element of surprise," she explained. “I’ve been doing this my _whole life!_ So, don’t talk to me like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!” She yelled, shaking Steve and Sam both to the core without raising her voice or losing her calm aura. Good God, was Steve terrified of her.

Steve opened his mouth to apologize but Sam interrupted him. “What about Otets? Can’t he just tell Rumlow we’re coming?”

“Not if he doesn’t know we’re coming…Otets would have no way of knowing whether I got into his head or not.”

“Really? I’d think I’d realize if someone was in my mind," Steve muttered.

“Well you haven’t noticed this entire time so…” Olivia muttered, making Steve’s eyes widen. “That’s not the point. He doesn’t even know if we’re aware about the party, let alone who’s going to be there…But, if we don’t go to that party, if we don’t get to Bucky before they do… He’s gone…Forever…”


	6. Party Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group travels to Paris and play James Bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just warning you, this is VERY long... Sorry... And, I used some french in this, to any french speakers, if my grammar is wrong, I apologize! French is necessarily my strong suit.

Brock sat at his desk while Batroc’s voice buzzed through the phone pressed to his ear. “Are you sure you want to hold this fundraiser? With Tessera on the loose-”

“Without our supporters, this whole operation will fail!”

“But, sir-”

“I want heightened security. She _will_ be there. And, I want the asset moved.”

“Sir, there are dozens of guests who have traveled thousands of miles to come and see him. If he’s not there, supporters will be hesitant to invest.”

“If we have her, we won’t _need_ investments. We won’t _need_ supporters, we won’t _need_ technology, we won’t _need_ anything… If we have her, we have the power of the Gods in our hands.”

* * *

“Breaking news from the east side of the city,” a news reporter read over one of the TV’s in the lounge. “One of FBI’s Most Wanted, Olivia Ritter, also known as Tessera, was spotted early this morning after causing a multiple car pile-up. Ritter, an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D agent, is considered to be highly dangerous. Police and FBI forces are asking that, if anyone spots her, to avoid contact and call 911 immediately…”

Olivia climbed up the steps as the news anchor continued on with his report. “Oh, great," she said sarcastically, sighing and resting her hands on her hips, staring at the TV.

“FBI’s most wanted, huh?” Steve asked from the couch flicking an eyebrow up at her.

“Yeah, I used to work with them, Nick let them borrow me for a few months…Bunch of assholes. When I went back to S.H.I.E.L.D., they were worried I was spilling secrets. I’ve been on that list ever since…About ten years now," she answered. _‘borrow?’_ Steve thought, _it’s not like she’s an object._

“…Tessera?” Sam asked from his spot next to Steve.

“Old code name," she replied, almost remorsefully but then she laughed, “Some of my old army buddies still call me ‘Tess.’”

“You served?” Sam asked.

“Three tours," she answered, nodding. “Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan; Marines, Army, Special Forces.”

“Damn.” Sam muttered. “How old did you say you were?”

“Twenty six,” She replied.

“…Marines?” Steve asked.

“Ooh-rah…” Olivia replied with a smirk. “But, come on, now’s not the time to exchange war stories…Come on, I’ll give you guys the run down," she said, motioning for them to join her as she began making her way to the lab.

* * *

 She stood in front of the three monitors while Sam took up a chair in the corner and Steve leaned up against the lab table. On the monitors was a blueprint of a huge Chateau. “This is where the party will be. Le Chateau d’Oeiseau. Local intelligence and building records show that, recently, an old bomb shelter was expanded to three times its original size, and an elevator was added. It is an underground fortress and the only way in or out is a highly-monitored, highly-secure, metal box that can be turned off with a flick of a switch. That’s where they’re going to be keeping him. If something goes wrong, they can flip a switch and trap him in.”

“Or, trap us out,” Steve concluded.

“Exactly. This whole thing is about careful timing. This whole time, people are going to be going up and down to analyze the ‘asset,’ see what their money will be going toward, we have to get down there, get Bucky and get him out before someone else comes back down. We’ll have about two minutes, maybe less.”

“So, let me get this straight, in a party of 200-some of Hydra’s supporters, of which, I’ll assume aren’t the best of the bunch-”

“Actually I checked the guest lists, almost all of them are either former or current assassins working for Hydra or its allies.”

“Perfect. So, 200 trained assassins, we have to get past all of that, all of their security and in a time of _two minutes_ , slip in, kidnap Bucky, and slip out, unnoticed?”

She sighed. “Pretty much. But, I’ve got a plan. Rogers and I will join the party, keep an eye out for who’s coming and going and I’ll try to read the room, grab some intel. Sam, you’re going to come in through the roof and enter the elevator shaft through the exhaust duct. Once Rogers and I have entered the party, we’re going to attach this.” Olivia held up a small black box, no bigger than a button.

“And, that is?” Sam asked.

“Our scapegoat. A device of my own invention. Once activated, it will block the flow of electricity and if we attach it to the fuse box on the second floor, the elevator will be locked in place. Which will come in handy later. Rogers and I will signal you once the basement is clear and you’ll cut the security wires, located on the support cables of the elevators. However, once you cut one, alarms will go off. It’s not until you cut all four that the alarms will stop and the hand print reader on the first floor will be deactivated and the elevator will open. So, once you do that, we have to run, _like hell._ The door will open, Rogers and I will get in, help you through the escape hatch in the ceiling and go down to the basement. Once we’re down there, we activate the device, elevator and the whole house goes dark. Elevator can’t go up, no one can come down. We get Bucky, then we climb into the elevator shaft and deactivate the device. When the elevator goes up to get the guards, it’ll stop us right on the exhaust vent. From there, Ry picks us up and we’re home free.”

“So, get in, attach the device, cut the wires, go down, activate the device, get Bucky, get on top the elevator, deactivate the device, go up, and get out…Right?” Steve asked.

“Precisely.”

“It sounds so simple when you say it like that," Sam said.

“Too bad it’s never that simple. We still have to dodge all of those agents _and_ Brock. If he recognizes any of us, we’re done. We have to blend, tread lightly and not make a sound. This is a stealth mission.”

“And, if we fail, we’re dead.”

“And, so is Bucky,” Steve added.

“Pretty much. Any questions?" They said nothing.  "Great, let’s suit up.”

* * *

Why Olivia had a three-piece suit on her plane, let alone in Steve’s size, was still a mystery to him. “Hey, look who it is! Double O Ninety Seven!” Olivia called from behind him chuckling.

“That’s hilarious," he muttered, turning toward her. Her hair was curled into thin,golden waves and her black eyeliner had been traded in for subtle golden-brown eye shadow and pink lipstick. She was in a navy-blue evening gown that reflected her navy blue eyes. It was simple, flattering and it hung off of her shoulders, allowing her comfortable movement. He was shocked. Not because he was thinking ‘ooh, a dress, she’s so feminine and perfect now that she got rid of that black nail polish and eyeliner.’ No, he knew she was beautiful, but this was different. That familiarity had returned. There definitely was something _familiar_ about her. How she stood like a skyscraper, how her red lips curled into a smirk, how she spoke, her voice calm, unwavering, _strong_ , the way she could be terrifying, angry or panicked but her voice was always calm. Maybe that was what was most confusing and scary about her: she was a calm storm, a faint crash of thunder off in the distance, a deadly silence. The only way he could think to describe her aura of intimidating calm was in the way chirping birds would go silent and burrow away moments before a storm would hit. The whole flock would go silent and the calmness was absolutely _unnerving_. That was her. She provoked a feeling of ‘if you’re smart, you’ll run now.’ She had strength and she didn’t even have to use all of it to effortlessly seem intimidating. That’s when he realized…

**_ She was holding back. _ **

****

“Y’know you boys just make it _way_ too easy," she said with a proud smirk on her lips.

He felt his face go hot as his skin turned crimson. “Uh…E-Excuse me, I’m gawking, aren’t I?”  he stuttered, chuckling nervously and bringing his eyes down to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck.

She smiled and, speaking in her calm, slow, strong voice, said quietly, “All this time…And you _still_ don’t know anything about women…”

“I know more than you think," he said, smirking at her in a sudden burst of confidence. _Wait, what did I just say?_ Steve thought, the second the words passed through his lips.

Her eyes rolled over him, analytically, before replying, “You don’t know what I think…” with a smirk on her face, her navy eyes latching onto his. His heart began thumping out of his chest. He began thinking maybe this was part of her powers, all of the energy around her, his heart was just trying to catch up to the energy swirling around him, energy that she brought. “…And, that’s just the way I want it.” She said through heavy-lidded, mascara-covered eyes. “…You ready to go?” She asked her calm voice turning smooth and warm.

He nodded. “Whenever you are.”

“Good. Here…” She pulled out the small black device and held it up between her fingers to show him before tucking it into his inside coat pocket. Now his heart was thumping out of his whole body. As her hand reached closer to his chest, he was absolutely sure she could feel his crashing heart, then again, she knew what effect she was having on him. For God’s sake, she could read minds. “…You’re going to need that.” Their eyes lingered on each other for just a second before Ryan’s voice came ripping through the room.

“Really, Liv? Flirting with the 100 year old?”

She sighed, turning her attention to him. “Jealous, are you, Agent?” She asked. Steve, however, couldn’t take his eyes off of her, trying to find this familiar quality in her.

“Ooh, ‘agent?’ Trying to belittle me, Liv?”

“That’s ma’am to you and, frankly, you could use a little belittling, if you ask me.”

“Nothing wrong with a little confidence.”

“But there is something wrong with cockiness.” She flashed a sweet smile over at Steve, almost as if she was apologizing for the pilot’s comments. Steve smiled back in return.

* * *

The car rolled up to the chateau, fit with a red carpet that trailed through the garden up to the front door and paparazzi (even Hydra had famous followers.) The two of them stepped out of the black town car, Steve, always being the gentleman, helped Olivia out of the car. They were barraged with camera flashes and Steve practically froze. So much for stealth, he thought. She noticed his stiff behavior almost immediately and leaned up to whisper "Smile," in his ear. 

  
He plastered a smile on his face as she wrapped her arm around his. They started walking to the door, cameras flashing and smiles on their faces. "I thought this was a stealth mission..." Steve whispered to her.  
  
"It is," she replied, simply.  
  
"And, the cameras?"  
  
"Just relax, they won't publish any photos of people who aren't famous."  
  
"Well...I kinda am famous," Steve said, worried that someone would recognize him as 'The First Avenger.'  
  
"Don't let it go to your head, Rogers," she warned. "Besides, if you're not running around in your star spangled spandex, I doubt anyone will recognize you."  
  
"Son nom?" a voice asked.  
  
They turned to see a beefy bouncer with a clipboard in hand, crossing off names. "Pardon?" Olivia asked, switching to French.  
  
"Ses noms, si vous plait?" Your names, please? The man repeated.  
  
"Ah, oui. Je suis Madame Olivier. Mon mari et moi avons recevoir l'invitation ce matin, nous n'avons pas eu les temps pour du  respondé. J'espare que ce ne vont pas être un probleme." I am Mrs.Olivier. My husband and I received the invitation this morning, we didn't have the time to respond. I hope this won't be an issue.  
  
The man glanced down at the clipboard. "Ce ne sont pas ici." They're not here.  
  
"Il y a un error, sûrement." Steve spoke up, Olivia's eyes flickered to him for a moment. Surely, there's a mistake.  
  
"Ce qu'il veut dire est que nous avons passé beaucoup de temps pour arriver ici..." What he means is that we have spent a lot of time to come here... Olivia said, trying to mend the situation.  
  
"Je suis desolé, Madame." I'm sorry, ma'am. The man said, moving to escort them off of the property.  
  
"Attendez!" Wait! Olivia leaned in close to the man. She whispered, slowly, almost sensually, "Hail Hydra."  
  
When she pulled away, the man immediately nodded, "Oui! Bien sûr! Pardon-moi, Madame. Bienveinue!" Yes! Of course! Excuse me, ma'am. Welcome!  
  
"Merci beaucoup." Thank you very much. Olivia said, smirking proudly.  
  
The two of them began sauntering into the party when Steve leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Je ne savais que tu parle français. " I didn't know you speak French.  
  
"Je pourrais te dire le même. Français est mon langue prémiere." I could say the same to you. French is my first language.

"Vraiment?" Really?

"Mais oui, Je suis né en France." Of course, I was born in France.  
  
" Français est mon langue deuxiéme. J'ai commence à le parler pendant le guerre. " French is my second language. I started speaking it during the war. He explained.  
  
"Ça explique ton accent." That explains your accent. Olivia replied.  
  
"Accent? J'ai pensé que mon français est très bien. Je n'ai pas un accent." Accent? I thought my French was very good. I don't have an accent.  
  
"Si tu es américain, tu as un accent... Mais le tien ne sont pas très mal." If you're American, you have an accent... But, yours isn't that bad. She admitted begrudgingly.  
  
"...Merci." Thanks. He replied, wryly.  
  
Meanwhile Sam, using his wings had flown in, unnoticed by Rumlow's guards, landing on the roof.  He managed to slip past the snipers and agents patrolling there, open the grate to the exhaust vent and slip into it.  
  
Steve and Olivia entered the party to see an ocean of people, all dressed in suits and gowns, dancing across a dance floor as string music played. They just watched, scanning the room for faces.  
  
"Do you see Rumlow?" Steve asked her.  
  
"No, but that's good. Means he can't see us," she replied.  
  
"Or, it means he's with Bucky."  
  
"Shit..." Olivia muttered, recognizing someone.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Two o'clock."  
  
Steve looked and saw Otets, arm in a sling under his suit jacket, black eye and a butterfly bandage across a stich on his forehead. "Otets?"  
  
"I thought I took care of him."  
  
"You did. He looks terrible. You _did_ throw a car at him."  
  
"Guess this was more important that staying in the hospital. We have to watch him. We can't let him get to Bucky. If Bucky resists, causes any trouble, and let's face it he will, Otets could wipe him again."  
  
"So what? We just wait until he goes down to wipe Bucky?"  
  
"If we engage now, Brock will know he's missing. He'll know we're here. Just relax, try to enjoy the party. Now's not the time," Olivia said. She pressed her necklace between her fingers, activating the microphone in her coms system, hidden in the pendant. "How you doing, Sam?"  
  
"All good. Elevator shaft secure. Ready when you are," he replied.  
  
"Copy that. Wait for my signal. "  
  
"Any sign of Brock yet?"  
  
"Negative. Otets is here, though. Let us know when you've got any movement. "  
  
"Copy that."  
  
"There he is," Steve said, staring Brock down from across the room. His dark hair had been slicked back and he had an ugly burn scar over his left eye.  
  
"Don't look now," Olivia stated, gritting her teeth. He noticed how angry this made her but decided that it was just adrenaline. Even when she was preparing for a fight, she still kept up her angry-calm aura. Energy danced across her eyes and burned furiously there for a moment.  
  
"Hey..." He remarked, noticing them. "You alright?" She glanced up at him confused. "Your eyes..." He said and she took an unnoticeable deep breath, calming herself and the energy dissolved into her navy blue irises.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. But he saw right through it.

Her mind wandered again, back to when she was sixteen. Nick had just given her The Cage and Brock was assigned as her S.O., to make sure Olivia didn't use it for joy rides or anything like that. Little did Nick know that the two of them would end up making out in the cockpit whenever the two of them couldn't find any place to be alone. They had met the day Olivia first used The Cage on an actual mission. Brock was just there to be a glorified babysitter. Natasha and Clint both came and the whole time Natasha was making comments like "He's still staring at you," and "You know he likes you, right?" And, Olivia would just shrug it off because on the inside, she didn't think a guy like that would like her. Believe it or not, Olivia didn't really have the best self-confidence, hell she still didn't. But, that's a weakness, one that she had been trained to hide.

Be that as it may, Brock was always trying to find excuses to talk to her. And, unfortunately, more often than not, that meant saying things like "Watch yourself, Rookie. Fury wouldn't like that attitude," or "Kill the sass, Rookie," or "You're in over your head, Rookie."(That was one of his favorites.) This patronizing caused...tension between the two, for lack of a better word and, to a sixteen year old, who had never been on a date, let alone had a relationship with anyone, fell victim to the 25-year-old's advances. She doesn't even know why she got tangled up with a guy like him. He was the frat boy type and she knew Nick didn't approve, nor did Pegs. Maybe it was just her rebellious teenage phase, or maybe she was just happy someone was actually showing interest in her.

Either way, the two of them started a relationship that consisted of fighting missions, kicking ass together and recovering by sleeping with each other. A relationship that had absolutely no emotional basis, no trust, (Olivia read minds, she thought that was trust enough.)

 

> _Her mind wandered to on instance when she was about eighteen, to when she had just finished a mission and she was shutting down and packing up everything on The Cage. She was typing a few things into her computer when she felt a pair of muscular arms wrap around her waist._
> 
> _Then, a husky voice whispered in her ear, "You did good out there, Rookie."_
> 
> _"Mmhm, always do..." She replied, smirking. "And, for the last fucking time, I'm no rookie. I've been doing this kind of thing longer than you have."_
> 
> _He smiled before brushing his lips against her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her skin. "Whatever you say...Rookie."_
> 
> _She snorted, "Don't you have somewhere else to be...Agent?" She asked, feeling his hands move to her hips, gripping her roughly._
> 
> _He hummed against her skin before muttering, "Not that I can remember..." His warm breath danced across her bare skin. "Then again, at this point, I don't think I remember my name..."_
> 
> _"I do, Agent Rumlow, and I also remember that Fury wanted to check our reports an hour after our return."_
> 
> _"Mmm, Rookie, I only need twenty minutes..." He hummed and she laughed._
> 
> _"More like ten."_
> 
>  

Steve watched as her gears began turning, wondering what she was thinking about. He thought back to how the second Olivia realized Brock was behind the kidnap, she immediately shut herself down and closed herself off, built up a wall. Even now, just upon seeing him, she grit her teeth and built up that same wall again. Steve opened his mouth to say something when slow, sweet music began to play from a make-shift stage across from the bar on the right side of the room. She then saw Brock walking slowly in their direction. She turned to Steve. “Dance with me," she commanded quickly yet calmly.

“W-Wha-”

“Now is no time for self-doubts and hesitations!” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the dance floor where dozens of other couples were already slow dancing. She quickly made room for the both of them in the crowd and held out a hand for him to take. He hesitated. She muttered, “We have to blend in. Dance or die, it’s your choice.” He sighed and the two of them began dancing, almost reluctantly.

“I’ve, uh…I’ve never done this before…” he admitted quietly, after a moment.

“I know,” she said, knowing that he was saving this for _the right partner_. She’s a mind reader, she knew the significance of this. “Don’t worry. Luckily, I can see into your head, I can see you thinking out every motion before you make it so…” He made an incorrect step and she agilely moved her foot out of the way, as if it was a planned move. “…You won’t step on my toes…” she replied with a sweet, soft smirk, if such a thing exists. He returned the whisper of a smile. “It’s a battle strategy, comes in handy. If you can see what your opponent is going to do before they do it…You’ve got a hell of a lot better chance at winning. That is the _only_ reason I beat you in that alley way. Well, that and a little help from an energy blast.”

He huffed a laugh. “After what I saw in Chicago, I don’t believe a word. You, uh... you fight good, Liv.” She smiled up at him.

She opened her mouth to give her thanks but then something over his shoulder caught her eye.  “Oh, shit…”

“What is it?”

“Brock’s coming this way," she stated, calmly.

“What do we do?” Steve asked, steadily.

“…Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Just do it!” she ordered. Steve, for obvious reasons, hesitated. She noticed Brock coming closer to them and she pulled him down by the nape of his neck and crashed her lips into his. Surprised at first, he tensed but soon melted into the kiss, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. With their lips locked, Brock brushed past them, muttering an ‘excuse me’ before continuing on through the crowd. She pulled away once Brock had pulled Otets into the office on the right side of the dance floor. When they parted, a blue zap of energy danced between their lips like static electricity. The feeling was unpleasant, it didn’t actually zap them, it was just….shocking, (no pun intended.) His eyes went wide at the feeling. She noticed the surprised look on his face and quickly tried to mend the situation, “I’m- I’m sorry, he was coming in our direction and I knew if he saw our faces he’d recognize us both so…I-I had to hide our faces…” She was nervous, based on the way she stuttered a bit awkwardly and the slight pink color ever so lightly dusting her cheeks.

“…Déjà vu…” he muttered, a sudden image of Natasha flashing before his eyes. _Not the first time I’ve been kissed to avoid Brock recognizing me._

She huffed a laugh in response. Then her eyes went wider when she saw Brock over his shoulder again. She saw Brock and Otets leaving the party and entering the office across the hall.

He noticed her sudden change in demeanor and asked, “What? What is it?”

“Brock and Otets are on the move.”

Sam’s voice buzzed in their ears, “Guys, we’ve got movement. Someone’s going down.”

Her navy eyes snapped onto his and he nodded in understanding before she even began speaking. “We’ve got to go. Now.”

The song ended and the two of them slipped up the stairs unnoticed by the crowd who had turned to applaud the band. What the two of them didn’t notice is that their hands were intertwined as they crept upstairs.

They tucked into a closet, closing the door behind them. She flicked on the light and they could see the fuse box in the wall. He stepped over and pulled the device from his pocket and it flew to the box from his fingers and magnetized to it. A pulsing blue light glowed in the center of the device indicating it arming. Just as they turned to leave, footsteps were heard approaching. She raised her palm and a streak of blue energy flew from the light in the ceiling into her hand, causing the room to go pitch-black. The light of a flashlight swept slowly over the door. They held their breath when the light hesitated over them and Steve’s grip on her hand tightened. When they both realized that they were holding hands, they immediately separated.

The door slowly crept open and Olivia quickly yet silently yanked Steve behind it, slapping a hand over his mouth. Olivia worried her lip between her teeth as the door opened wider, pushing the two of them together, chest-to-chest. The ray of light swept over the room, slowly. Then it disappeared. The door shut and the footsteps echoed and faded into the other direction.

They both sighed, stepping back from each other. “That was close…” Steve remarked, not only talking about how close they came to getting caught.

“I’ve had closer," she replied.

She pressed her necklace again. “Sam, where’s B-” She stepped out of the door only to find Brock standing outside of the office, in plain view. “Get down!” she ordered in a whisper, yanking him down to the ground. “It’s Brock, he came up… _alone._ ”

“Otets is down there with Bucky,” Steve concluded.

They stood up only to see Brock staring directly up at them, a devious smile on his face. He muttered something into his wrist. “Run," she said, realizing what he was doing. The two of them ran in the other direction, going further into the house. They turned a corner to find two agents running toward them. They turned back and saw another two heading in their direction. Cornered, she want on the offensive. Blue energy ran down the veins in her arms and danced across her eyes as her heartbeat raced. The agents, seemingly unfazed by the supernatural creature standing in the front of them, kept racing toward them. Steve and Olivia went back-to-back, then they attacked.

She lunged at them and they raised their pistols in the air. She grabbed the out-stretched arm of the first, wormed underneath it, keeping her hand on the barrel. She re-aimed and then, she pulled the trigger, hitting the second agent in the chest, the gun firing a silenced round. He fell to the floor, gun in his hand. Then, she elbowed the agent behind her in the face before flipping him over her and onto the floor.

Meanwhile, Steve attacked the other pair of agents. He slammed the head of one agent into the wall before grabbing the other by the back of the head, kneeing him in the face and flipping him over. He turned back to Olivia. She stared down the gun on the floor before picking it up and wrapping her fingers around it.

A crowd of agents began chasing up the stairs after them. “Look out!” he yelled as he pulled her into a room, slamming the door behind him. They slammed their backs against the wall, sliding down to the floor. The agents open fired and silenced rounds flew through the air one of them managed to fly through the wall and graze her left arm. They were pinned, no way out. He turned his attention to her as she winced slightly. “You hit?”

She grasped at her bleeding arm. It _was_ a pretty big wound but not big enough to stop her. Not that there was such a thing. “Shit…” she muttered, her eye lids fluttering momentarily. “Neurotoxins. Bullets are laced with them. ”

“You going to be alright?”

“Yeah, it’s a graze…Might be a little dizzy, though," she explained through the gunfire.

Steve quickly took charge of the situation. “Alright, here’s the plan: I’m going to get them off your tail. As soon as I do, you need to get the hell out of here!”

“Rogers…I appreciate the sentiment…” She lifted her hand, swung the door open and blasted the agents away in a fireball of blue energy, one handedly, the other one bleeding and clutching onto the gun. She turned her attention back to Steve, eyes glowing bright blue. “…But, _I don’t need saving_.” She stood, yanking him up with her. “Come on, we don’t have much time.” They walked around the other side of the floor and began their descent down the second set of stairs, back into the party, still roaring with loud, Jazzy music. “Lend me your jacket?” Olivia said, “Gotta cover up this wound.” Steve took off his jacket and put it on her shoulders, covering her bleeding arm. She hid the agents gun in the inside pocket. “Keep your eyes up. Brock is still up here.” She warned. Olivia glanced out at the crowd of dancing people and the door leading to the office on the other side of the room. “We’ve got to get to the other side of the building without being seen in a heavily guarded house full of assassins. This is nearly impossible.”

“Not if you run fast enough.”

“I thought you were too stupid to run away from a fight.”

“Exactly. I’m running toward one.”

Olivia huffed a laugh before noticing Brock, standing outside his office, exactly where he had been a few minutes before. “Dead ahead, he has to be guarding the elevator. He knows exactly what we’re after.” Brock smiled, staring her dead in the eyes before mouthing ‘Hey, Rookie.’ She clenched her jaw and her fists, blue energy swimming across her eyes. Brock started toward them.

“Liv…” Steve warned.

“Don’t worry," she said.

He raced closer. “Liv, he’s-”

“Just wait!”

He inched closer and as soon as he was in the center of the dancing crowd, Olivia opened her palm toward the ceiling and a wisp of energy flew from her palm into the smoke detector overhead that Steve hadn’t even noticed. The alarm screamed and water came pouring down from the sprinklers in the ceiling. The crowd screamed and began moving toward the exits, Brock getting caught in the sea of people. “…Genius,” Steve muttered.

“Thanks. Now, run.” The two of them took off toward the elevator. “Sam, get ready. We’re on our way,” she muttered into her necklace.

Sam was sitting on top of the elevator car. “‘Bout time. Did you take a minute to take in the scenery? Taste the champagne? I’m beginning to think you guys are actually enjoying this.”

They both sighed, annoyed, as their clothes were dripping and Olivia had been shot. Sam opened his mouth as if to say another snappy comment but then three agents realized that someone had entered the elevator shaft and were swooping down toward Sam. One of them fired and the tranquilizer whizzed past Sam’s head and dug itself into the wall next to him.

Back downstairs, Olivia and Steve entered the office which had bookshelves lining all of its walls and a desk in the center of the ornate room. “What the hell?” Steve asked, upon not seeing the elevator.

“Start looking. It has to be around here somewhere,” Olivia said. They began feeling the wall, searching for a button or something.

Sam began attacking. He sprung on the agents. He jumped up and kicked the gun from the first’s hands and then kicked him back into the second. The third, however, aimed his gun up at Sam. He fired and narrowly missed Sam as he ducked behind the thick cables holding up the elevator car. Sam grabbed the gun from off of the floor and fired at the third agent who fell to the floor. The first and second stood up and Sam tied to fire again but the gun clicked. It was empty. Sam dodged as the second fired, back to the cables. The agents cornered him. He raised his hands in surrender and the agents pushed him to the ground, his hands still in the air. “We’ve got a situation in sector B…” The agent began rambling into his radio. “One hostile, possibly with others, we’re going to need back up-” Sam took advantage of the distraction and wrapped his hands around the gun to his forehead, trying to wrestle it away from the agent. The agent resisted and fired, the bullet narrowly missing Sam’s head and the agent behind him. Sam kicked out his legs and kicked the agent in the knees. He fell forward and Sam got the gun out of his hands. Sam turned to the second agent and he raised his gun. Sam managed wrestle the gun from his hand which fell through the crack between the car and the wall, falling down the elevator shaft. Then, the agent started on the offensive and Sam managed to dodge most of the advances but made no advancements of his own.

Olivia sat down at the computer before taking his jacket off of her shoulders. He was still searching the wall for the opening to the elevator. She began typing away on the keyboard.

“Are you helping me look or what?” Steve asked.

“Maybe the computer controls it.” A screen popped up. “What the hell?” He glanced over her shoulder.

“What is that?”

“No idea. Looks like some kind of base in the Alps. Maybe a possible-”

“Shh!” He put his ear to the wall to hear Sam’s pained grunting. “It’s here.” They stood up and began shuffling through the bookshelf. Olivia moved one of the books and the bookshelf slid open revealing a set of silver elevator doors.

“…Well, that’s cliché,” Olivia concluded.

“Sam, cut the wires,” Steve ordered into his radio.

“I might need a sec!” Sam yelled with his head caught in a head lock. Sam flipped the agent over him and they began fighting. The agent pulled a knife and began attacking. Then, Sam grabbed the agent’s arm, forcing it backward. Then he swung his leg into the agent’s elbow, snapping it. The agent screamed out in pain. Sam managed to get the knife out of the agent’s hand and then he knocked the agent to the ground. Then, he ran over to one of the security wires and sawed through it. Alarms began blaring. Olivia put her hand up to the hand print scanner in the door of the elevator and it buzzed, turning red.

“Sam, it’s not working. You have to cut all the wires to deactivate it!”

“Working on it!” he yelled with the agent wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck. Sam flipped him over and managed to cut the second wire. The agent recovered and charged at him again.

Voices and footsteps grew closer to the closed office door and Olivia grew antsy. “Sam…?” No answer.

Steve turned to Olivia, growing nervous. “Can’t you just zap this thing and open it up?” he suggested.

"I don’t know the wiring, I could overload the computer, fry the whole thing. Then, we’ll be stuck out here.”

Steve, seeing no other option, tried prying the elevator door open, but even a super-soldier couldn’t pry open that vault.

Agents stormed the room. Steve flipped over the desk and the two of them ducked behind it. The agents began firing. She took the gun out from his jacket and fired into the crowd, _once._ Then, the gun clicked, empty. A bullet whizzed past her ear and she ducked back behind the table.

“Sam, hurry the hell up!” Steve ordered.

Meanwhile, Sam was fighting the agent still in the elevator shaft with him, knife in hand. Sam kicked the agent back before running to the third wire. Knowing that the agent was chasing him, Sam pulled the wire back and then snapped the wire into the agents face. He stumbled backward and Sam sliced the wire. Then he ran to the fourth and final wire.

Downstairs, they were still under fire. She was growing dizzier by the minutes as bullets came flying through the desk. She put her arms up, shielding both Steve and herself. Steve noticed how woozy she seemed and asked, “You alright?”

“Toxins are kicking in," she replied.

“You going to be alright?”

“Yep. But he better hurry up, I can’t hold this up much longer.”

The agent tackled Sam and hung him over the edge. “You made a mistake, trying to go after Crossbones…” the agent muttered.

Sam kicked him up and over and he fell down the elevator shaft and Sam was left hanging by the wire.

The door suddenly opened and Steve kicked the desk away, knocking the agents down They ran into the elevator and the door closed and began its decent. They opened the hatch and Sam climbed down to join them.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, seeing them, drenched, bleeding and furious looks on their faces.

“We were improvising,” Olivia replied. “What happened with you?”

“Ran into trouble. We’re good, though.”

“We have to hurry. Bucky could be getting drugged-”

“Rogers, hit the button.”

“Now? We still have to have to open the door when we get down there.”

“Do it!”

Steve pulled out the button from his pocket and pressed it, activating the device. The elevator went dark and halted. Olivia opened her palm and a bright blue ball of energy collected in her hand and illuminated the elevator. “Something’s not right.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

“There’s too much energy on the other side of that door.”

“So, you can just sense energy levels now?”

“I feed off of the energy in the environment, so, yes, I can. And, right now, there’s too much waiting for us on the other side of this.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked.

“It means, it’s not just one or two guards, it’s a full-on ambush.”

Brock reentered, and began running toward the fuse box.

“How many? Can you tell?” Steve asked.

“Fifteen, maybe twenty, based on the energy signature.”

“How are we going to get to him?! He’s with Otets! They could be drugging or _killing_ him right now!”

“Well, what do you want us to do?” Sam asked. “Walk willingly into an ambush? We’ll get killed!”

“I’m not leaving him here!” Steve yelled back.

“If you go in there, we’re not leaving, period!”

“Will you two just shut up and let me think?!” Olivia yelled, calmly.

“We don’t have time to think! Right now, he’s in there getting killed!” Steve yelled back.

“We’re cornered! Pretty soon, we’re going to be in the same boat!” Sam argued.

“STOP!” Olivia yelled, eyes glowing, fueled by her anger. The elevator suddenly creaked and lit back up again. They all froze.

“…Liv?  Steve asked, calmly.

“...That’s not me.”

_Ding._

“Get down!” she yelled, pushing them behind her. The agents fired and she shielded them, bringing her arms up. They just watched in awe as bullets bounced off of the energy shield. “I can’t hold this to long! Once this drops, you need to get the hell out! We’ll rendez-vous back here!”

“You just expect us to leave you?” Sam asked.

“Don’t worry, she’s got this,” Steve defended.

She smirked back at him. “Go, find him and get out! Understood?” They nodded. “Ready? Go!” She dropped the shield and attacked. She blasted into the crowd of agents, tossing half of them to the ground. She shielded herself as she advanced closer toward them.

They fired but nothing hit her. Then, she blasted more of them away. Once there were only about ten still standing, she attached. She grabbed two of the agents and ran them into each other. Then, she sent a ray of energy out at another. It hit him in the chest and he fell to the ground. Three more came running up, aiming their guns at her. She threw the first into the wall, blasted the second into the ceiling and then she turned to the third. She grabbed the gun in his hand and pointed it away from her, bending his arm back. He swung her leg up, kicking him in the stomach and he keeled over. She grabbed his head and shoved it into her knee. Then, she flipped him over onto the floor, flipping her hair up. Then she turned to the three guards left standing and lunged at them. They all attacked her at once. She managed to throw the first into the wall, the second into the elevator walk and, the third, she kneed to the ground before shoving the end of his gun into his face and he fell backward out cold.  
  
She turned back to the two of them, eyes and a single strand of hair from the front of her head glowing blue. They stared back, eyes wide. "What part of 'get the fuck out' do you not understand?!" She yelled. Then another guard appeared from behind her.  
  
"Don't move!" He yelled, sticking the gun to the back of her head. She slowly raised her hands in the air. She turned to him and then punched him in the face, kicked the gun from his hands and then put her hand to his chest and wisps of energy flew from his chest to her palm. He seized up, groaning quietly. Then, she lowered her hand and gasped slightly, adjusting to the new energy as it flowed into her hand. The man fell to the ground, unconscious. Her nose began bleeding and she panted as energy danced across her eyes.  
  
"What in the hell...?" Sam muttered.  
  
She turned back to them. "We have to go, NOW." They followed her out of the elevator.  
  
"Powers back in. They're going to be sending more guards down here," Steve stated.  
  
"You're right. Sam, you go disable the elevator," Olivia ordered.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Open that panel, pull out anything that looks important. Rogers, you and I will look for him. Split up. You take the left, I've got the right. When we find him, rendez-vous here. Understood?"

  
Sam ran toward the elevator, opened the panel and began ripping out wires. "This looks important,” he muttered as he yanked out wires. Olivia and Steve began exploring deeper into the underground base.  
  
Steve ran down one of the corridors, kicking down doors, looking for his long-lost friend.

Olivia ran down her hall. She stopped when she ran past a room that was dark and she stopped in her tracks. She opened the huge metal door, slowly, cautiously, and turned on the light. A long room was illuminated in florescent light. In the center of the room was a cage, metal bars on three of its sides and on the fourth was a thick wall of reinforced, blast-proof steel. Welded to this wall were four lengths of chain. On the ends, two metal gloves and two cuffs. Olivia recognized the set-up instantly.

 

> Her mind didn't wander, more like it teleported to a memory. _She was just a kid, only about six years old, sitting with those same restraints around her hands and ankles. She was chained but she could move around, sit stand, lie down, so long as she didn't move to the door of the cage. She sat with her legs crossed and her head down, her blonde hair hanging down. She played with the hanging strands, curiously, mindlessly. Then the door to the room swung open._  
>    
>  _She jumped to her feet, watching as three guards and one man in a lab coat entered: Strucker. "Hail Hydra." He muttered._  
>    
>  _"Hail Hydra." She muttered back. "Que se passe-t-il?" She asked. What is going on?_  
>    
>  _Strucker motioned to the open door and two other agents yanked in two people. In her memories, these people were nothing more than happy blurs. But, at the time, she knew exactly who they were._  
>    
>  _"Mama! Papa!" Olivia called out to them, delightedly. They were dressed in dirty rags that resembled the remains of hospital gowns. Her mother's long, blonde hair was waving freely in front of her face and her father's green eyes were filled with drying tears. They both panted heavily._  
>    
>  _"Olivie, ma petite, nous t'aimons!" Her mother declared, frantically. Olivie, my little one, we love you!_  
>    
>  _"Je vous aime aussi!" I love you too! Olivia said before turning back to Strucker. "Monsieur, qu'est que vous allez faire?" Sir, what are you going to do?_  
>    
>  _"Voilà ce qui arrive quand vous ne l'écoutez pas nos commandes." This is what happens when you do not listen to our orders. He replied. Olivia's eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to protest but it was cut off with her scream when they forced her parents to their knees, aiming guns at the napes of their necks._  
>    
>  _"Non! Non! Si vous plait, non!"  No! No! Please, no!_  
>    
>  _"Ça va, mon cœur." It's okay, my love. Her father whispered gently._  
>    
>  _"Être forte, ma chérie, être forte. Nous t'aimons. "Be strong, sweetheart, be strong. We love you. Her mother said tenderly. Two shots rang out. The buzzed in her ears, ringing incessantly. She remembered screaming. She remembered hot tears erupting down her cheeks and she remembered blue energy turning her arms glowing blue. She remembers an explosion. Then, she remembers standing on the burning ruble of the base. She doesn't remember how she did it but she remembered that it was her. Then, she remembered a helicopter overhead. She remembered finding Nick. She remembered crying into his shoulder, muttering, "Ils sont de mauvais personnes, ils font du mauvais choses." They're bad people, they do bad things._

“Liv?" Steve asked, upon seeing her staring into the room, Sam following behind. "Liv?" e asked louder. She cringed was she was brought back into reality. "Liv, he's not here, we've looked-" he trailed off upon seeing the room. 

  
"What is this place?" Sam asked.

  
  
"Where they kept him. They must've moved him," Steve concluded.

  
  
"No..." Olivia spoke up. "That arm could've snapped right through those chains like they were made of string. "

  
"But this is the only containment unit down here, the rest are all offices or labs, he can't be down here," Sam said.

  
  
"...He was never here," Steve concluded, glancing over at Olivia, wide-eyed.

 

Olivia opened her mouth to say something but she was cut off by the sound of the elevator ascending back up to the ground floor again.

 

“…There goes our ride…” Sam remarked.

 

“They’re coming down,” Steve determined.

 

“We have to go!” Olivia said.

 

“Where? There’s no way out!”

 

Olivia quickly glanced around before noticing dark corridor that led away from the house into a dark, damp tunnel. “…Yes, there is.” They all ran into the tunnel, gunfire beginning to ring out behind them. The tunnel led into what appeared to be a sewer system. Olivia pressed down on her necklace again, “Ryan, we need an extraction.”

 

“Copy that. ETA: 2 minutes.”

 

“We might not have that long!” Steve replied.

 

Bullets whizzed past them as they climbed up a ladder which they assumed, led to an alley way or emptied out into the woods, or something. But, no, when Steve removed the manhole cover, they climbed out into the center of the Champs-Elysées, full of civilians and traffic. They all climbed out into the street, dodging traffic, people staring at the nicely-dressed trio crawling out from the undergrounds. Agents were storming the sewer, right on their tails. As they ran, agents climbed up the ladder and began firing. People screamed and cars came to a screeching halt. To avoid civilian casualties, Steve grabbed the manhole cover off of the ground and threw it back, hitting the agent in the face, causing him to fall back into the sewer.

 

“Remind me never to play Ultimate Frisbee with you!” Olivia remarked as she ran through the street in her heels.

 

“We’ve got to get to higher ground if the plane’s going to get anywhere near us!” Sam said.

 

“I don’t see any higher ground, do you?” Steve said.

 

Olivia noticed a tall building on one side of the street. “I do,” she muttered, “Sam! Meet us up there!”

 

Sam nodded before expanding his wings and soaring up to the building.  Steve turned to Olivia. “What now?!”

 

“Hold on!” she yelled, before blasting a surge of energy down to her feet, which lifted her off of her feet and acting almost like rocket boots. She flew through the air, wrapping her arms around Steve, lifting him off of the ground and sending them both speeding into the air. They all landed on the roof, Steve and Olivia landing hard, rolling over and over each other. They groaned as they stood.

 

“Since when do you fly?” Steve asked, brushing himself off.

 

“Since always,” she replied, holding out a hand and helping him off of the ground.

 

“Thanks for the soft landing,” he remarked, sarcastically.

 

“Sorry, I don’t always lift 200 pounds of hunky muscle 400 feet in the air,”  Olivia replied. The plane came roaring through the air and Olivia nodded to Sam who lifted off and began trailing the plane who was opening its bay door. “And, I’m going to have to do it again,” she said, before slinging one of Steve’s arms over her shoulders and lifting off again. They sped through the air like a bright blue comet. Sam was just about to land when a bullet came ripping through his wings, throwing him off and causing him to fall toward the ground. “Chute?” she asked.

 

Steve glanced back before answering, “Negative.”

 

She flew close enough to the plane to toss Steve into it with a blast of energy. He landed safely in the plane, rolling as he hit the floor. Then, Olivia turned and dove for Sam as he fell through the air. She grabbed him by the hand and yanked him back toward the plane. They both landed with a groan and the bay door shut, leaving them all sitting on the floor, panting heavily. “Trust me now?” she muttered to Sam, breathless. He nodded.


	7. "They're after me."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the party in Paris, Steve, Olivia and Sam continue their search for Bucky and this leads to some...old friends...

 

“Well, that was fun, huh?” Steve muttered, leaning against the parked SUV, next to Olivia as they all panted, trying to catch their breaths. “Is everyone alright?” Sam and Olivia nodded. Steve glanced down at Olivia’s arm which was dripping red, her hair was disheveled, returning to its natural pin-straight style, mascara and lipstick long gone. “Liv, you’re bleeding.” He observed. He stood, going into her lab to get a first aid kit. To his surprise, Olivia didn’t reply with an ‘I’m fine,’ or anything like that. He sat down next to her, beginning to tend to the wound. She didn’t wince when he began suturing up the wound, she didn’t even acknowledge him being there. She just stared, blankly, out into space, her navy eyes glazed over. “Hey, you okay?” He asked her, quietly, almost tenderly.

“…They’re after me.” She stated.

“What?”

“They’re after me.” She repeated, louder this time.

“What do you mean?”

“Those bullets. They’re laced with neurotoxins. Why not use normal bullets? Unless, they want their intruders to be kept alive, unless they have value to Hydra…”

“Liv, anyone could have valuable intel. Hydra is trying to rebuild just as much as S.H.I.E.L.D. is.”

Olivia reached down into the first-aid kit and pulled out a device. She took the machine and placed it against her wound. From the side, a needle shot out and took a sample of Olivia’s blood. She winced slightly as it did this but she quickly turned her attention to the screen on the device, which read:

**_98%- Human Blood._ **

**_2%- Tetrodotoxin 19._ **

“This.” She held it up for Steve to see. “Tetrodotoxin 19 is an extremely rare and extremely expensive neurotoxin. It is deadly at this dose to a normal human. It should’ve killed me in seconds. But, the device in my head super charges my brain’s immune system, I’m able to clear out the neurotoxins before they can do any damage. Brock knows that. This is what the bullets were laced with. This would’ve killed you, anyone who was hit with it. Anyone but _me_ …You see, Hydra wanted every intruder but _me_ dead. They are after me. They want _me_ alive,” She explained, “They're after me.”

“…Holy shit.” Sam muttered.

"What about that cage?" Steve asked, knowing the effect his question might have on her. "When you saw it, you froze. You went out of your skull...What happened back there?"

"It's a long story..."

"We've got time."

"When... I, uh... When I was little, that's what they used to contain me. They put me in that cage. Those gloves are engineered to detonate when they sense any substantial energy surge... They were... a fail-safe, in case they couldn't control me..." She explained, looking at her feet, nervously running her hands over her wrists, feeling the slightly rough skin, the minuscule scars that those gloves had left there. "...Sometimes, they'd lock me up in there for days on end... starve me out...I guess, seeing it all again brought back some bad stuff... stuff I'd like to forget...

"That's why you think they're after you...Those neurotoxins were meant for you and the cage was meant for you..." Steve concluded with a sigh, shooting her a sympathetic look.

"It just makes sense. They knew I was helping Bucky. They took him to get me to come to them, they're using him as bait."

“Even if that’s true, that doesn’t change what we’re doing here. The mission hasn’t changed,” Steve began, speaking calmly, in his ‘pep-talk’ manor that always had a way of convincing people. “We’re still going after Bucky, they _still_ have him. If anything, this is good. Now, we know what they want and we can predict their next move.” She nodded, considering this for a moment.

“…Liv, what did you do…to that guy in the basement…?” Sam asked, quietly.

“I took his energy. The device feeds off of the energy in the environment. I can take energy from anywhere, and I took the energy from him until he didn’t have enough to remain conscious.”

“Did you not think to do that when we were under fire?”

“I can only handle so much energy.If I take in too much, I can...explode. Energy goes everywhere. I can only take a little bit more than what I took from that guard before I lose control. But, that not important, right now. ”

“You’re right,” Steve said. “Right now, we need to find Bucky. Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?”

“…I didn’t exactly get enough time to do a sweep of the room, so no, I don’t. Although, I might know someone who does.”

“Who?”

“One of Brock’s old friends: Georges Batroc.”

“Batroc?” Steve’s eyes went wide. “Old friend?”

“You didn’t think I taught Brock his horrible French, did you?”

 

* * *

 

Batroc was attacked while he was walking through the streets of D.C.. He was yanked into an alleyway, a black bag was placed over his head and he was hit over the back of the head. When he regained consciousness, he was being handcuffed to a metal chair in a concrete building, an empty parking garage. He groaned, recognizing the man to his left. "Je ne vais jamais parler à vous," Batroc growled to Steve.  _I will never talk to you._ "Je ne vais pas vous dire rien."  _I will not tell you anything._

"Oh, mais non. Vous allez lui dire." Steve growled in response.  _Of course not, you're going to tell her._

From one corner of the garage, Olivia appeared, her footsteps clicking behind him. "Bonjour, George." She muttered, stepping in front of him, flashing him a red-lipped smirk. They all were back in their casual clothes; Olivia, in her leather jacket and jeans. 

"Qui êtes-vous?" Batroc asked.  _Who are you?_

"Tessera." Olivia answered, simply. Her eyes glowed for a moment, staring Batroc down. Then, she turned back to Steve, pulling him aside and whispering into his ear, "We have a problem: I can't read him." 

"What?" He whispered back.

"He's blocking me out." Olivia answered.

"Can you get past it?" 

"Maybe...if he gets distracted." 

"Do it." 

"He may not be returned in the same condition."

"Understood." 

She pulled away, yanking her gun out of her waistband and aiming it up at him. "Alors, on y va. Oú est il?" _Then, here we go. Where is he?_

"Qui?" Batroc asked.  _Who?_

"Vous savez." _You know._

"Je n'en sais pas."  _I don't know._

"Ne me mens pas." _Don't lie to me._

"Ou qoui? Ton petit ami vas me blesser les bras?" He asked, nodding over at Steve.  _Or what? Your boyfriend will break my arms?_

"Possiblement."  _Possibly._

"Non, il ne va pas faire ça. Il ne peut pas. Il est juste un autre homme qui croit qu'il peut changer le monde, mais c'est pas vrai. Il est l'un qui ment. À tu et à lui-même."  _No, he's just another man who believes that he can change the world, but it's not true. It's him who lies. To you and to himself._

"Tais-toi, ou bien je le vais." Olivia warned. _Shut up or I will do it for you._

"Vous êtes imparfait, Capitaine . Voilà tout que vous serez jamais." _You're flawed, Captain. That's all you'll ever be._ Steve's jaw clenched and Olivia saw this.

"C'est assez. " She warned.  _That is enough._

"Il y a les personnes qui croient que vous ne pouves pas vivre sans un geurre. Je le crois aussi."  _There are people who believe that you can't live without a war. I think so too._

Steve lunged at him, winding up to throw a punch. Olivia stepped out in front of him, gently pushing him back. "Steve." She warned softly, looking up at him with soft, navy eyes, almost as if she was asking if he was alright, a stark difference to the navy glare he was expecting to see. He sighed, lowing his arm back to his side, clenching his jaw and his fists. Olivia turned back to Batroc, obviously pissed. She shot him in the kneecap and he screamed out in pain. "Parlez." She ordered through gritted teeth.  _Talk._ He was too busy crying out in pain to answer her. "Parler ou le suivant va dans la cou et vous saigner en neuf secondes." She ordered again. _Talk or the next one goes in your neck and you bleed out in nine seconds._ He hesitated again and she put the gun against his neck and that seemed to get through to him.

"...Train." He muttered through the pain.

"Un train?" _A train?  
_

"Il y à un train dans l'Apls. Ça, c'est ou il est."  _There is a train in the Alps. That's where he is._

"Où est-il lui prend?"  _Where is it taking him?_

"Je-Je n'en sais pas."  _I don't know._

"Quand est il parti?"  _When does it leave?_

"Dix...Dix heures..." _Ten hours.  
_

Olivia's eyes glowed blue again before she turned to Steve. "...He's not lying, that's all he knows."

"How long until we can get back to France?" He asked.

"About 8." 

"Good, let's go."

"Wait, what about him?" Sam asked the two of them.

"Don't worry. immigration got an anonymous phone call. They should be here to pick up the trash in about ten minutes.  _Bon Voyage, Batroc._ " Olivia answered.

"...So, Frenchies, someone's gonna have to explain to me why we're going back to Paris." Sam remarked.

 

* * *

 

The lab was dark, only one light on over one of the counters she was standing at as she packed up a box with files and equipment. The rest of the lab was dimly lit by the blue back-up lights. She felt something in the air shift, there was really no other way to explain it. She just felt the energy of the room suddenly jump, she felt like someone was staring at the back of her head. But, she knew exactly who it was, based on the sheer amount of energy that entered with him. "Didn't your mother teach you not to sneak up on people?" She asked.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

Olivia sighed. "I'm not going." She stated, collecting and piling up files.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," She dropped the files into a box and picked it up in her arms, brushing past him. "I'm not going. Nick called, I'm off the mission." She explained. She set the box down on the counter behind him.

"Liv, we need you on this. You can't just leave." He pleaded.

"Nick gave me my orders, I have to." She said, turning off the various machines and packing them away.

"Believe it or not, Nick doesn't always know what he's doing." Steve began arguing.

"It doesn't matter. He made his decision." Olivia stated.

"He has no right to tell you what to do." Steve told her, surprised she didn't know it herself.

"Yes, _he does_."

Steve scoffed. " _No, he doesn't._ He doesn't control you, especially when he stops you from helping others, from doing good."

"Don't you get it?" She snapped, not looking over at him, dropping a device into the box. "I'm his weapon. I don't get to have a say in this...no matter how much I want to help."

"You are a  _person_ , Olivia." He told her, staring her down, but she still refused to turn toward him and retained her attention on her instruments in front of her. "And, if his orders mean not doing what's right, you have  _every_ right to disobey him."

"Just drop it, Rogers. It's final." She warned, moving back to her computer, typing in some things, shutting it down.

Steve's mouth opened slightly, surprised at her obstinate attitude. "Olivia, you're the only one who can help Bucky." He said, his voice dropping. "What if they got to him? What if they got into his head? You're the only one who can get him back!" He declared.

"I'm sorry, Steve, but...I can't." She answered, reluctantly, glancing at her feet.

"Why not?" Steve asked, a bit quieter.

She hesitated.  _Do I tell him?_ Then, she shook her head. "You need to start realizing that not everyone needs your help or wants it!" She snapped, using one of her main defense mechanisms.

Steve scoffed again, his jaw dropping. "Why do you let him push you around like that!?" He asked, growing angered.

"Because I have to!" She yelled back, slamming her hands down on the counter in front of her.

"No, you don't, Olivia!" He yelled back, mimicking her tone. She grit her teeth, hearing how angered he was, getting ready to turn around and punch him square in the face if he said something else that she didn't want to hear. "If what he's doing is wrong, you don't have to do a _damn_ thing he says."

"You don't understand, _Rogers."_ The formal name slipped from her lips as she completely blocked him out.

"Then, make me understand!" He ordered. "We need you, why can't you help us?!"

She bit down nervously on her bottom lip. "There are things you sill don't know about me...Things that Nick _does._ " She crossed her arms over her stomach, brushing her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She hunched over, sinking into herself, drawing further and further away from him. She was closing herself off as she felt vulnerable talking about this. His eyes went wide at her change in demeanor. This _skyscraper_ , that had once held her head so high... _was_ _collapsing_. Insecurity ate her up and reduced her to nothing but a crack in the sidewalk. He watched as his skyscraper tumbled, dumbfounded that someone so strong could fall so easily. She was terrifying but in a new way now. He wasn't scared of her angry-calm voice, her sarcastic smirks or her bright blue glares. He was scared of her vulnerability. He was scared that someone had hidden this weakness _so well_ for _so long,_ was crumbling.

"...Then, tell me." He said, calmly.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "There...There are times when I can't control it." She confided, quietly, muttering. "The device takes over and...I-I can really hurt people." She spoke as if uttering these words would cause her to burst into flames. "Nick knows this. Brock knows this. They know the  _damage_ I can do...The monster I can be..."

"You're not a monster." He denied the title confidently, convincingly.

She looked up at him with soft eyes, "...It doesn't matter. Brock can manipulate me, he can make me hurt you. I can't let that happen."

"And,  _you won't_. I've seen it, You can control them."

She scoffed, quietly, voice breaking. "You don't know that."

"Yes. I do," She glanced up at him again, curious to what he had to say, even if she wasn't believing a word of it. "I've seen what the Tesseract can do, I  _know_   all of the power you have. I  _know_ all that you're capable of..." He paused, watching her reaction. "...And, I know you're holding back." This hit a chord with her. He had her full, amazed attention now. No one had _ever_ told her anything like this. "If you show them how strong you are, if you  _prove_ to them that you  _are not_ the monster that they tried to make you, they can't touch you."

"...I can't...It-It's not that simple." She muttered.

" ** _You are stronger than you know, Olivia..._** Why do you doubt yourself?"

"Steve, you don't understand."

"Do you actually think a monster is all you can  _ever_ be?" He asked, tenderly.

She shook her head. "...Steve-"

"What are you so damn afraid of?!"

"I am a monster, Steve!" She yelled. He almost jumped at her angry, not-so-calm voice. She yelled  at the question, slamming her hands down on the counter and turning to him, tears welling up in her eyes."...When I was serving, a small town, just outside of Baghdad, was taken hostage by a terrorist ring. Four other soldiers and I were sent in. We were outnumbered ten to one." She bit down on her lip again, trying to distract herself from the tears. "My men put their _trust_ in me, they _trusted_ me to shield them..." Tears fell from her eyes. She didn't sob, she didn't cry, she simply let the tears fall and roll down her cheeks. "...And, I tried." She said, voice breaking. "...B-but, I-I-I took-took in too much energy too fast...I...I... I couldn't handle it..." Her eyes fell to the floor as more tears dropped to her feet.

"...You exploded..." Steve concluded, his eyes roving over his crumbling skyscraper and his eyebrows turning upward.

She sighed, shakily. "I lost control. I couldn't- I couldn't...A-A shock wave went off. I watched helplessly as I tore them apart...like the only reason I was there was to see them die...That's when I realized: I am a monster. No matter how much I  _want_ to help, no matter how much good I want to do, I can't. So, I ran, trying to get away from the people I love.It was the only way to keep them safe from me. I was on the run for almost five years, but I realized I can't escape what they made me into because you can't run from  _who you are._ No matter what side of this war I'm on, I can't help  _anyone._ I can't do good, I'm not like  _you,_ Steve. In the end, the only person I can save is myself. And I am  _absolutely terrified_ that I won't be able to save you because  ** _I am no goddamn hero!_  ** _That's_ what I'm afraid of!" She shouted. "That's what I'm afraid of."

 

 

 

 

 

 

> "...and the holocaust was complete." F.Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby.

_Crash._ She had collapsed. It was all out now. 

She had no idea how he managed to get that out of her. He didn't pry, he wasn't trying to get to admit to anything, he just wanted to understand. It hit her like a ton of bricks as soon as the last word hissed from her lips.  _I told him. I told someone. WHY IN HELL DID I JUST DO THAT?!_ She suddenly tensed. Her training, the code by which she lived her life, was to hide any weakness, including emotional. She had told him her most vulnerable weak spot and she felt naked, unarmored. If he knew what could knock her down, he could take advantage of it. The thought that she may have to kill him only crossed her mind before being quickly wiped away.

She expected him to run, after finally seeing the monster she really was, the monster she had tried so hard to hide. She was out in the open, nothing left to conceal and she expected him to  _run._  

But, then, he didn't.

"Did you try to save them?" He asked quietly.

She turned her face back up to him, wiping her tears away, her lips involuntarily parting in awe. "...What?" She asked, wondering why he was still standing there.

"Your soldiers. Did you try to save them?"

She glanced down at her palms, clasping them around one another, her thumb running slowly over her palm. "...With all the strength I had." She answered quietly.

Then, you did everything that you could." He said taking a step toward her. " _It's not your fault. You need to know that._ " Her eyes went wide at this. "You are not a monster. A monster wouldn't _try_ to help, a monster wouldn't _want_ to help. Even after everything bad that's happened to you, even after being raised by them, after all of those people who betrayed you, you still  _try_ to help, you still  _want_ to help. Don't you ever think you're a bad person, Olivia...Because a bad person wouldn't even have tried to leave Hydra. You were a _little girl_ when you realized what they were doing was wrong. A bad person would've never realized that. You  _are_  a _good person_ , Olivia. You _are_ a hero... _ **And you're stronger than you know**_."

She glanced up at him, eyes glowing as she dug into his head. When the energy disappeared, her lips parted and her eyes went wide. "...Wh-...Why aren't you lying?" She asked, innocently.

"...Excuse me?"

"Why aren't you lying to me?" She asked again, entirely serious. "Everyone lies but you. You haven't lied to me once...not yet...Why?" She was truly bewildered.

"...Not everyone lies, Olivia." He stated, confused by her question. She looked at him as if he had just told her that he was married to a lobster. 

~~ ~~

"Yes, they do. Everyone does...Everyone but you..."

"Maybe you've been hanging around the wrong people..." Steve suggested, realizing why, the real reason why she had trouble trusting people.

She stared at him for a moment, as if her view of him had suddenly shift.  _He doesn't lie,_ the thought echoed in her head, sounding so foreign, almost laughable. There was something different about him, she knew that from the start, maybe it was just his physique but, no, she knew what it was now.  _He doesn't lie_. A sweet smile tugged at her lips. "...Yeah... Yeah, maybe I have..." She admitted, staring gratefully into his eyes.

He stared back at her with soft, considerate, tender eyes. "So, what do you say? Are you going to take down Hydra... _again_? I'm sure there's a few lessons you'd like to teach them..."

She snorted before throwing on a smirk, her confidence returning. "Damn right." The two of them just gazed at each other, both of them seeing the other in a different light. She almost considered wrapping her arms around him in a grateful hug. _Damn, he can give one hell of a pep-talk, she thought._

"Hey, guys!" Sam called, entering the lab. They both jumped at his voice, like they were teenagers getting caught by their parents. "You guys ready-" He paused, upon seeing their awkward behavior. Olivia ran her fingers through her hair nervously and he had shoved his hands into his pockets. "Uh, am I-"

"No." They answered in unison.

He raised an eyebrow up at them. "... _Alright._ Satellites located the train. We get there in one hour."

"Um, right." She said, "Steve, I'm going to go...go get changed..." She said, starting toward the lab door.

"Did she just call you 'Steve?' " He asked, pointing at Olivia.

He watched her leave, seeming transfixed. "...what?" He asked, still staring at her.

"Were you two...having a moment or something?" 

"We were not having a moment!" She called, climbing up the stairs.

Steve shrugged. "What she said."


	8. The Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group gets closer to Brock and closer to Bucky, and this takes them back to an all too familiar place.

When she climbed up the stairs, she was dressed in full [uniform](http://s280.photobucket.com/user/nbriggs19/library/Chasing%20The%20Past):

 

Her honey-blonde hair was pulled back into a high, neat ponytail, a few shorter strands hanging down on the sides of her face. Steve and Sam were both in uniform, too and Steve had his iconic shield on his back. She slid her gloves over her fingers as she announced in a booming voice, “What d’ya boys find?”

“Satellite pictures of the train.” Sam replied. “They found it in the Alps, just like you said.” Through the snow clouding the picture, a train was seen with small dots of people scattered around it.

“Good. How long ago were those taken?”

“About an hour.”

“They should still be there.” Steve concluded.

“Perfect.”

“Wait, what’s that?” Steve asked, pointing to one of the cars that was a bit larger than the rest of them.

“Looks like some kind of containment unit. That’s probably where he is.” Sam answered.

“The Cage.” Olivia concluded.

“Olivia-?” Steve began, sending her a concerned glance.

“I’ll be fine.” She answered his unanswered question quietly.

“We’ll have to drop you guys about half a mile out,” Ryan said, stepping into the lounge. “Blizzard’s covering the mountains for the next 24 hours.”

“Alright. We’ll jump the train, search it from the back up. We’ll have to treat this like a stealth mission; assume that anyone on that thing is trying to kill us. Once we find him. Sam, you’re going to fly him out of there. Steve and I will try to find Brock, get up to the engine, and stop the train. Whatever cargo it’s holding, we have to assume, it’s dangerous. Stay quiet, stay out of sight and stick together. Good?” Olivia said.

“Let’s do it.” Sam and Ryan left to go suit up and when Olivia turned to follow them, Steve grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Olivia?” She turned back to him. “You going to be alright?”

“I can handle it. Believe it or not, it’s not my first time dealing with them.” She answered.

“I just want you to be careful. If these guys  _are_  after you-”

“Keep my eyes up, my gun loaded and my mind on the mission. I’ll be fine, Steve… Like I said, I don’t need saving.” She said with a smile. “Now, let’s go kick some ass and get him back.”

 

* * *

 

Sam and Olivia flew rather elegantly down to the snow-covered ground, landing softly while Steve barrel-rolled his way down, landing with a thud, misplacing snow. He stood, brushing himself off.  Olivia smiled over at him before they all turned their attention further down the mountain, where agents were piling big, black boxes into the cars.

"What are those things?" Sam asked.

"Not good." Steve answered.

"They look like batteries of some kind." Olivia observed.

"Do you think they're shocking him again?"

"Could be. If they got those drugs in him again, that's how they'd make 'em work."

"Do you see him?"

"No."

"How many guards do we have down there, Liv?  Can you feel anyone in the train?" Sam asked.

"We're looking at about 3 dozen." Olivia answered.

Steve shrugged. "We can handle that." Olivia and Sam nodded in agreement.

When the agents began piling up into the cars and the train began its departure, they all slid down the side of the mountain and began running after it as it chugged down the track toward its unknown destination. 

Steve, of course, was the first of them to hoist himself up onto the back of the train followed by Olivia and then Sam, who remarked, breathlessly, "How do you guys do that?"

Steve broke open the padlock on the door into the car with his shield and they all slowly crept in. In the car, shelves were lined with the black boxes from top to bottom.

"I don't like this." Steve whispered.

"Déjà vu, huh?" Olivia asked.

"Oh, no, this is much worse."

"What are these things?” Olivia asked, picking up one of the smaller boxes.

"No idea." Sam answered.

"I've seen something like this before. They used these back in the day, used them to power their weapons. They look different, though. They're empty." Steve concluded.

She tucked the device into her waistband. "They're probably holding Bucky up at the front." Olivia said.

"And, there's three dozen agents between us and him." 

"Yeah, but, would it really be that bad if we got caught?"

"...Are you being serious?" Sam asked.

"There's only one containment unit on this damned thing..." She replied.

"And, you think that we'll be able to get back out?" Steve asked.

"I have before.  _You_  have before."

Steve exchanged a look with Sam, shrugging. 

Then, Olivia felt something in the air shift. Within a split second, she had her hand on the gun strapped to her hip and just as she was about to point it at the cloud of energy behind her she felt the barrel of a gun on the back of her neck. "Drop it." A voice echoed from behind her. Steve and Sam both pulled their guns up at her attacker before two other agents emerged from the next car, aiming their guns up at them. "Drop it!" The agent shouted."

"You're not going to hurt me." Olivia replied calmly.

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"You need me." She stated, her hand still hovering over her gun.

The agent hesitated for a moment before saying, "Yeah, well, we don't need your buddies," as he shifted his aim over to Steve.

"No!" She shouted. "Don't!" She raised her hands in the air "I'll go! I'll go, alright? Just...Just don't hurt them, okay?"

"...Olivia, what are you doing?" Steve asked as the agents took her gun and handcuffed her hands behind her back. Then, the agents turned to Steve and Sam, confiscating their weapons and handcuffing them. 

"It's okay, Steve. I...I can't risk you getting hurt."

 

* * *

 

They yanked them through the cars, passing cargo holds full of huge black boxes. It wasn’t until they got to a car around the front of the train that they stopped. Along the sides of the car was three cages on either side, each from ceiling to floor and about six feet wide. In one of them, at the front of the car was a man in tactical gear, with long dark hair He sat on the ground, his knees pulled to his chest and his head down. Two agents were on each door, guarding him,  _trapping_  him. When the door slid open, he jumped to his feet, pressing his back against the wall, almost fearfully. He had chains around his wrists and ankles and a mask that covered his nose and mouth leaving only his dark brown-eyes visible, like a muzzle.

Steve recognized him immediately. "Bucky!" He called, trying to worm his way out of the agents' grasp. The man didn't react, just stared at him with blankly intense eyes. "It's me! You know me! Bucky, please! It's-" His words froze his lips when the agent put a stun gun to his neck.

Olivia analyzed Bucky, her eyes glowing. They stooped Steve and Sam while they kept pushing her forward. She glanced over her shoulder at them, shooting them a glance with calm eyes before they shoved her forward into the next car, the door shutting behind them.

The agents moved to push Steve and Sam into the cages but Steve resisted, staring Bucky down. "You know me, Bucky. I know you do." He tried again but the man just stared apathetically. Silence ensued, a silence that crushed Steve. "Bucky...please..." He pleaded but still nothing.

Then, he pounced, Buck snapped through his chains and the agents jumped. Bucky shoved the cage door open and it swung, striking one of the agents in the head. Bucky stepped out of the cage, swinging a lag up at the other agent, Sam ducking to avoid his foot as it slammed into the second agent, knocking him unconscious. A third agent came running from the car behind them. Steve snapped through his handcuffs, grabbing his gun and aiming it up at him and firing a few rounds, missing him entirely. Then, Bucky snatched the gun from Steve, firing once and hitting the agent right between the eyes. He fell to the floor. Steve turned to Bucky who tore off the mask, tossing it to the floor. "Hiya, dumb ass." Bucky said, turning to Steve.

"You're still you." Steve observed, eyes wide.

"And, you're still a terrible shot." Bucky smirked.

Steve hugged him, tightly. "Jerk."

"Punk. You didn't really think I was going to let those assholes into my head again, did you?"

"Maybe a little warning next time?" Sam asked. 

 

* * *

 

 

They took Olivia four or five cars down where they had The Cage waiting. They slid the explosive gloves onto her hands, chaining her to the wall by her hands and ankles. The chains were long enough so that she could sit on the ground. She ran her fingers over her wrists, struggling against the chains, seeing if there was a weak spot. She felt the air shift again, this time from the front of the car, remembering the all too familiar feeling of his presence. "There's no point in struggling. You've got nowhere to run." A deep voice said.

"...Well, well, well. This  _should_  be a surprise." Olivia muttered, looking up at Brock.

"What? Being locked up in chains again?" He said, almost tauntingly.

"Y'know, Brock, I always had you pegged as the 'bad-boy' type, but really? This?" She said, motioning to the chains hanging from her wrists. "...Don't you think this is _a bit_  out of your league?" It was taking all of her energy not to blast him down right then and there but she quickly reminded herself that those gloves of her hands would explode, probably causing the train to derail and that could lead to Steve, Sam and Bucky getting hurt. As of that moment, that was all that was stopping her.

He huffed a laugh, scoffing. "I belong here," he stated, his voice low, gravelly. '...And, so do you."

"I  _never_ belonged here. I was a child when I figured that out-" She defended making a clear point of her resistance, her voice remaining calm through anger that was obvious as her words hissed from her lips.

"Oh, please, save me the 'tragic' backstory," He said, making air-quotes with his fingers. "It's just  _pathetic._ " He hissed.

"The last thing on Earth that I will be is pathetic." She stated, determinedly, sternly.

"Tell that to your chains." Brock said, smirking. "...Just give it up, Liv. You belong here and  _you know it._ "

"I got out once. I'd rather die then come back again." She said, through gritted teeth.

"You  _will_  break. You  _will_ obey. You know why? Because if you don't, that little boyfriend of yours and his buddies will pay the price. And, you can't live with that. Can't live with the Captain's blood on your hands. That's what's always been your downfall: you won't let the innocent  _die,_ like they were meant to. You can't live with that. So, by the end of tonight, you're going to be on your knees one way or another." He smirked devilishly at the power he had over her. Or, at least,  _thought_  he had.

"Unless you want it bitten off, I suggest you keep it to yourself." She stated, unfazed.

He smiled. "Always so stubborn...Not for long, though." He said, sauntering toward the door.

This broke her resolve. "How could you, Brock?" He stopped. "How could you betray them like that? Betray  _me_  like that?" He turned back to her, her angry-calm voice dissolving to anger now. "S.H.I.E.L.D. took you in when you had  _nothing._ They were your  _family,_ and you  _betrayed_ them."

"You still don't get it, do you? They were  _never_  my family and they were  _never_ yours!" He shouted.

"What the hell are you...?” She trailed off as she put the pieces together. "...This whole time? You were with them this whole damn time?!"

"That's where we're the same, baby. We're both Hydra." He said, a confident, smug look on his face.

"...I read you." She stated, eyes wide. "You...You didn't-"

"You read a lie. Even I have ways to keep you out of my head." Her lips parted as resisted the urge to let her jaw drop. "But, you know what? It feels good to get that off my chest. Now, there's no more secrets between us anymore, baby..." He said stepping closer to her, almost in an intimate way, speaking softly, tenderly. "Now, we can finally be who we truly are...Hydra's children."

"No, I'm not like you. I'll  _never_ be like you!" She said, eyes stone-cold navy.

"You already are!" He shouted. "From day one, you've been like us!"

She opened her mouth to shout something but something about his wording tripped her up. "...’from day one...?'"

"You were a beautiful baby, Tess." He stated. Her jaw dropped, tears welling up in her eyes. "...Sweet blue eyes...soft skin..." He said, in a crazed whisper, kneeling down to her. Her eyes refused to meet his. He ran a finger down her cheek sweetly, the way a lover would and she twitched away at his touch. She clenched her jaw. Something miraculous happened. In a world full of trust-shattering betrayal, she found strength, seemingly out of thin-air.  _Turn the pain into power._ She panted, trying to contain the anger that had been boiling under the surface for _so_ long _._ "...Your skin was so perfect; like silk...flawless..." He continued. "...Well, except for that scar on the back of your neck..." He laughed, referring to the only physical evidence that she was experimented on: a bow tie-shaped scar at the nape of her neck, hidden by her long hair that buzzed and burned each time she was close to exploding, where the device connected to her spinal cord.

She butted his head, slamming her forehead into his jaw. He stumbled backward, groaning. The small bow tie-shaped mark felt naked on her skin, at the sheer mention of it, she felt the need to run her fingers over it, hide it. "Don't touch me." She growled.

He smirked. "...You were stubborn then, too." He said, wiping the blood from his lip his thumb.

"... _You_  killed me..." She concluded.

"You're a miracle." He stated.

"You...You took my life away from me....You're the reason I'm like this! You made me a monster!" She said, anger burning in her chest, becoming harder to contain.

"You're gifts are so strong, Tessera."

"Don't call me that!" She roared, her voice echoing through him like a shock wave, springing to her feet, running to him until the chains stopped her. Her hands and arms were yanked back as she panted heaving breaths through gritted teeth. Face-to-face and he just grinned back at her navy eyes. "I'll kill you." She said, her angry-calm voice returning. He laughed quietly to himself. "I'LL KILL YOU!" She yelled.

He laughed louder. "I'd like to see you try."

She spat in his face. "You will...It'll be the last thing you ever see. I'm going to take from you what you took from me...A life for a life. Seems fitting." She snarled.

"Careful, baby. Don't want to get too upset." He said smugly. She hadn't even realized the burning sensation behind her eyes as they glowed.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down before she exploded, blowing Steve, Sam and Bucky into the pieces. He laughed seeing the fear in her eyes as he left.

 

* * *

 

 

"Bucky, where's Rumlow?" Steve asked.

"No idea." He answered.

Steve sighed. "Alright. Sam, you and Bucky search the train. Find Brock, take him out, whatever you have to do. I'm going to go look for Liv."

"Watch your back," Sam warned. "That psycho is out there somewhere."

Steve nodded before beginning his search for Olivia in the front half of the train.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Olivia wanted nothing more than to scream, to cry, to beat the shit out of something,  _anything_. But, she couldn't, not if that meant exploding. So, she just sat on the ground, clenching her fists, digging her nails into her palms, staring at the two guards in front of her. Then, something in the air shifted. It didn't become thicker, it didn't feel like she had a pair of eyes on the back of her head. No, this shift of energy sent a spark of electricity up her spine, and gave her the sudden urge to bounce her knees up and down, to move in any way possible. An eager, animated energy. The air no longer hung like a wet fog around her. She recognized it immediately.

"Uh...Excuse me?" She said, trying to get the guards' attention. “There’s some wires exposed on my glove. I don't know if something's wrong or...?" They exchanged looks and one of the two aimed his gun up at her. The other yanked at her wrist and began fiddling with her glove. "STEVE NOW!" She yelled.

He kicked open the door and the guards jumped. One of them turned his gun and fired. Steve shielded himself. The other reached for his gun and she sprung. She kicked it out of his hand. Upon hearing the commotion, guards from the car in front of them came running in their direction. An alarm began blaring and Sam and Bucky, further down the train heard it too. One of the guards smacked a button on a panel on the wall and the chains retracted into the wall, yanking her off of the floor and pinning her to the wall like Christ on the cross. She struggled to break free. Two agents surrounded Steve and Olivia and Steve tried to fight them off but he was getting overwhelmed. She managed to yank her leg from the wall, snapping the chain, the anger causing energy to course through her veins, super charging her muscles. The agents ran up to her and she shoved her heel into their heads, swatting them away as she dangled from the ceiling. They didn't fight back, their orders were to keep her unharmed, so they did. She snapped the other chain around her ankle and now she was dangling by her arms. She swung her legs back and launched herself off of the wall. She wrapped her legs around one of the agent’s shoulders before yanking the chains around her wrists forward and wrapping them around his neck, pulling them tight. Steve was fighting off another agent at the end of the car. The agent under Olivia, struggling to breathe, aimed his gun at Steve. She kicked the gun from his hands and his face turned purple. His knees went weak and she untangled the chains and he fell to the floor and she landed lightly on her toes, the new slack in the chain increasing her mobility. A third agent entered the car, gun in hand. She knew she could disarm him from where she stood so she jumped up on the side wall, springing herself off of it, using the momentum to yank the chains out further. When she landed, she had much more leeway and her arms fell comfortably at her sides. She whipped the chain around and managed to wrap them around the barrel of the agent's rifle. She pulled back on the chains and the gun fell from his hands to the floor. Then she swung the chains up, hooking them on a hanging light. She swung from the light, kicking the agent in the chest, sending him against the wall, knocking him unconscious. The last remaining agent turned his attention from Steve and charged at her and she readied herself to dig into him but Steve knocked him out of the way and into the wall with his shield, knocking the agent out. Then he turned to Olivia.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I had him." She replied, breathlessly.

"I know you did." He said, grabbing the key from one of the unconscious agents. "You alright?" She didn't know how to answer. Was she alright? "...Olivia?"

"It was him." She answered quietly, remorsefully. "He's the one who make me like this." His eyes turned soft, considerate, looking up at her as he began unlocking her wrists. "...How could I have been so stupid?" 

"Don't do that to yourself, this isn't your fault." He quickly denied.

"He lied to me for  _years_ , Steve...And,  _I_  didn't see it. It is my fault."

"No, it's his fault for thinking he could lie to you, not yours for not catching him." He said, one chain falling to the floor with a thud. "And, you're going to give him what he deserves. And, right now, he deserves to have his ass kicked."

"Wow, swearing and advocating revenge? I gotta say, Steve, I'm liking this new side of you." She said, the second chain falling to the ground, leaving the gloves on her hands.

"I don't like bullies." Steve said, smirking slightly. "How'd you know I was out there, on the other side of that door?"

"Your energy signature. It's unique, I knew it was you." She answered.

Steve nodded. "Do you know where Brock is?"

Before she could answer, she saw a group of agents running toward them from the car behind them and she screamed, "Get down!" before pulling off the gloves and tossing them toward the agents, blasting them in a ray of blue energy, causing them to detonate. Steve snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close as he shielded the both of them from the explosion.

When the smoke cleared, icy cold air was rushing into the car from the blown out ceiling and Steve and Olivia were side-by-side on the ground each of them with an arm up, Steve with his shield and Olivia with her energy field, protecting them both.  They glanced at each other, realized the similarity of their actions before Steve stood, keeping a hand on her waist as he helped her off of the ground. "You okay?"

"I'm good." She replied.

"Doesn't look like you are..."Steve muttered, realizing that her head was bleeding from a small gash on her forehead. She winced as his fingertips gently brushed her hair out of the way to get a better look at the wound. 

She glanced up at him, clutching gently at his wrist. "Really, Steve, I'm okay." She said, smiling softly.

He nodded, slowly moving his hands back to his sides. "Okay."

"Where's Sam and Bucky?"

"They're looking for Brock on the back half of the train.” He answered.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT." Sam asked as he and Bucky ran into the car with the blown out roof.

"Improvising." Olivia answered.

"You guys alright?"

"Yeah, we're good, ran into some trouble but we're alright."

"Where's Brock?" She asked.

"Haven't found him." Bucky answered.

"Well, he's gotta be here somewhere." Steve said.

"Sorry, we didn't have much time to look."

"But we did find this." Sam said, pulling out a blue print of an archaic looking plane design and showing Steve and Olivia.

"Look familiar, Steve?" Bucky asked.

"Oh my God," Steve muttered. "It's the Valkyrie."

"The what now?" Sam asked.

"It was an atomic bomb carrier that had the power to wipe out the continent in a matter of minutes. The Red Skull built it during the war and it was powered by the-"

"The Tesseract." Olivia gasped, glancing up at him with worried eyes. 

_They were after her._

 Over her shoulder, Steve saw a sniper on the roof of the train, aiming at the back of Olivia's head. "Look out!" He yelled, yanking her back into the car, out of the sniper’s cross hares. Bucky grabbed a discarded gun from the floor and took out the sniper.

“We’ve got go.” Sam concluded.

“What about Brock?” Olivia asked, frantically, her stomach dropping at the thought of Brock getting away.

“Olivia, we have to go.” Steve said, “Who knows where this damned thing is going. It could be leading us to a trap, for all we know. We’ll find him later but, right now, we have to get away while we still can.” He explained.

Olivia opened her mouth to protest but when she saw agents running toward them from the other cars, she nodded, “Yeah, we should probably go.”

“Sam, you got Bucky?” Sam nodded, grabbing Bucky by the back of his collar. “Hold on tight.” He warned before Bucky tensed they took off.

“Ryan, we need a lift.” Olivia spoke into her necklace.

“Copy that.” Ryan’s voice replied.

She turned to Steve. “You ready?” He nodded. She slung his arm over her shoulder before lifting off and joining Sam and Bucky on the empty tracks behind the train.

“Everyone alright?” Steve asked.

“SINCE WHEN DO YOU FLY?!” Bucky asked Olivia, wide-eyed.


	9. Compasses and Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes a new view on Olivia...and so does Bucky as the team prepares to take on Brock.

Ryan picked them up and they landed the plane on a small, snow-covered valley while their satellites did a sweep for any possible bases in the area where Brock could've gone. Olivia had insisted that Bucky get some rest after the ordeal he had been through, even if all he wanted to talk about was how she made 'those blue thingys.' (A little sedative always helps)

Steve was sitting on the edge of the open bay door, his legs crossed out in front of him. He changed into a set dry clothes gray sweatshirt, white t-shirt and jeans. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders as the cold chill of the wind was turning his cheeks and nose bright pink. He watched as the snow fell slowly and silently onto the calm forest floor in front of him. His mind wandered, as it often did and, maybe it was because of Bucky being there but he found himself reminiscing and, for Steve, that’s almost never a good thing. The familiar scene of the still, snowy mountainside wasn’t exactly helping the tightening pain of nostalgia in his chest. All of their faces passed in front of his eyes, as they always had. But this time, two things were different: In that list of people he’d lost, Bucky wasn’t there but Peggy _was_. Tears suddenly stung into his eyes which he quickly blinked away. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out his compass, flipping open the lid to see her faded photograph, sighing heavily, not knowing that a certain blonde was watching him. Bucky was back, part of his past was home, but…there was a part of his past he was still chasing: Peggy. A calm voice from behind him spoke up, “Hey…” Olivia. Quickly he shoved the compass back into his pocket, praying that she didn’t notice it. He turned to see her in jeans and a Fall Out Boy t-shirt, her hair laying freely on her shoulders, two coffee mugs in her hands.

“Hi…” he replied quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked and he nodded, moving to make room for her. “Cocoa?” she asked, handing him one of the mugs.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the mug from her. “How are you doing?” he asked, tenderly, almost intimately, his eyes sweet and considerate.

She threw on a wry, halfhearted smile. “Well, considering my ex-boyfriend is trying to kill me and possibly trying to start a nuclear war…I’ve been worse.”

He nodded. She was expecting him to react to Brock’s former title but he didn’t he just nodded understandingly. He took a sip from his mug before asking, “Where was he?”

Her brow furrowed. “Hmm?”

“During…what happened in Baghdad…” he asked, choosing his words carefully. “…Where was he?” She heard his question but she also knew what he really meant: Why wasn’t he there for you?

She sighed, glancing down at the cup in her hands. “…A few clicks north of me, aiding Seal Team Six in the assassination of Osama Bin Laden,” she said, quietly, painfully.

He watched her, his skyscraper gently swaying in the wind again, close to falling. He felt a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach at the thought of not only her pain but the fact that someone _ignored it,_ left her to suffer. “He…He didn’t try to help you at all, did he?” he asked, hesitantly, his concerned and considerate eyes roving over her.

She laughed wryly. “Let’s see, he experimented on me when I was a baby, lied to me my entire life, betrayed me in nearly every way possible and you’re _just_ now figuring out that he may not be the best boyfriend?” she said, raising an eyebrow up at him with a smirk.

Under the sarcasm, though, there was pain, pain that he saw. He had used the same technique, the same defense mechanism to hide his pain, he knew what this was. He shook his head, the burning anger growing in his gut. “…He didn’t deserve you,” he said, quietly. Not because he wanted to compliment her but because he actually meant it. And she knew he meant it.

She gazed at him, almost adoringly, a small smile on her lips. She shuffled closer to him before muttering, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Suddenly, his skyscraper turned nervous, lancing down at her feet, twirling her thumbs. “…About…About what you said…on the way to the train…” He tried to soften his eyes, offering her a sweet smile, trying to abate her nervousness. “…Did…Did you really mean all that?” She asked, finally looking up at him, flashing her navy eyes at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, I did.” He answered, confidently.

She smiled to herself, slightly, before her brow furrowed. “Can I ask you something else?” He nodded, with an endearing smile. “…You called me a hero….Why were you so quick to call someone like _me_ that but you don’t think of yourself in the same way?”

He shook his head, gazing down at the mug in his hands. “I’m not a hero…” He answered quietly.

She huffed a laugh in response. “ _Really?”_

“That guy out there, the guy in the uniform, he’s the hero…not me. Cap’s the hero…Not Steve.”

“Well, y’know, anyone can put on a suit and call himself any idiotic name he comes up with…” He smiled, halfheartedly. “…Or pump himself full of super steroids but that doesn’t make him a hero. It takes a hell of a lot to be a perfect soldier but it takes a hell of a lot _more_ to be a good man. Trust me, in my time, I’ve seen a lot of meat-headed, knuckle-dragging soldiers but, not one of them, not a _single one_ is as kind and sincere as you are.” He glanced at her, then darted to the sweet, warm…almost _grateful_ smile on her lips. That burning in his stomach crawled up to the center of his chest and intensified as felt his cheeks go hot. Her smile spread as she saw his cheeks turn pink. He swore his heart stopped when she grinned up at him. His skyscraper, maybe, _just maybe_ , might regard him in the same light that he admired her in. He didn’t know what to say next, he just wanted to stare at his skyscraper, _admiringly._ “Y’know, she thought you were a hero, too,” she said, her voice was calm, warm and sweet. He furrowed his brow. “Peggy.”

That’s when it all clicked. It was _Peggy_. That’s the familiar part of Olivia that he kept seeing. It was Peggy’s confidence, her kindness, Olivia was just like her yet…somehow different. A good different. ‘A modern twist on an old classic’ was the only thing he could think to describe it. He laughed silently to himself at his stupid thought. No, Olivia was more than a remix. She was something special, he knew it when he saw that special blue gleam in her eyes. “You meant a lot her, y’know.”

He scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”

“Steve, why do you think she named it _SHIELD?_ ” she asked. He gazed up at her, astonished. “…You feel lost,” she concluded. He furrowed his brow again. “That’s why you’ve kept her in your compass. When you feel lost, can’t find which direction to go in….You look to her.”

“You know about that?” he asked, blushing furiously.

“I’m a mind-reader, I know everything,” she said, smiling, but he turned nervous. “Don’t worry, Steve. Your secret’s safe with me…I think it’s sweet actually.”

“Keeping a 70-year-old photo of her is ‘sweet?’ Some people would call it creepy.”

“You’re in a new place, a place where you’ve never really thought that you’ve belonged in. So, you look to _her,_ hoping she’ll help you find your way. That’s pretty damn sweet, if you ask me.”

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you getting into my head…” he said, smiling at her.

“…Most people don’t,” she replied, smiling back. “You’re not alone, you need to know that. I don’t know where I belong either. That’s where we’re two birds of a feather: we’re soldiers, we follow orders…We’re so busy doing what other people tell us, go here, say this, do that…We forget that we have a say in our own lives, too…Once you take me out of that, once the orders stop coming in, I still have no idea where I belong. But…Maybe that’s the best part: …You get to find out… If you want my advice, if you want to start feeling like you belong here, you have to stop chasing the past…No matter how much better it may have been….Cause, believe me, what I wouldn’t give to go back to the days when I thought I was powerful, when I thought I was doing good…When I even knew what ‘doing good’ meant- When Brock wasn’t Hydra, or, at least, when I thought he wasn’t…The past is always better than the now, but you can’t spend you entire life reminiscing.”

“…It’s harder than you think…” he said, remorsefully. “…Forgetting…”

“Who said anything about forgetting?” she asked. He gazed up at her. “You don’t _forget anything._ You just keep moving…Steve, Peggy wanted nothing more than for you to have a _long, happy_ life. I don’t think you’re exactly doing that when you’re sitting around, moping about how you didn’t get a chance with her. She wanted you to _live._ Live a good life. And, the only way you can do that is if you go out, find out what you want to do, and who you want to do it with…Do what makes you happy and if you don’t know what that is, _go find out._  And, that doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her or your past, it just means you respect her and you respect yourself enough to be _happy_ …Do you know what I mean?”

He was dumbfounded, absolutely shocked. His lips parted before curling upward into a grateful, amazed smile. “…I-I think I’m beginning to,” he stuttered, blushing up at his skyscraper. He was beginning to like that nickname for her. He just stared, astonished at her kindness, understanding and sympathy. Someone who could scare the living soul out of a man just with an angry-calm glance was also, sweet, kind, and understanding. He was bewildered and astonished by her.

“I-I’m sorry. I tend to get into people’s heads and dig up things they’d rather not see,” she apologized upon seeing his wide-eyed expression.

“No! No, no. It…It’s fine, I’ve actually had someone see all of that stuff before anyway.”

“Well, I’m not Wanda, I’m not trying to toy with your emotions,” she quietly explained.

“I…I just…I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually understands what’s going on in my head…” he said, smiling.

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I-I tend to do that.”

Good God, her laugh was like silk flowing from her grinning lips, causing his heart to stop. This wasn’t her sarcastic laugh (which was also somehow enticing,) but this was actual joy, happiness. _He made her laugh_ and in the same second it happened, he wanted to hear her laugh again and again. It was like music to his ears. He loved it. He loved her. _Wait, what?! Get a hold of yourself, Steve! You just met her a few days ago, you can’t fall in love with someone that fast…right? But, just look at the way she’s looking at me…Does she feel this, too? She knows more about me than anybody does, maybe she knows about how I’m feeling. Maybe this beautiful, strong, resilient skyscraper feels this way too._

She broke away from their adoring gazes and took a sip from her mug. “… ‘Skyscraper,’ huh?” His eyes went wide as she flicked an eyebrow up at him, smiling.

He opened his mouth to stutter out…anything but luckily Sam entered, calling, “Hey, Liv-?” The two of them jumped at the sound of his voice. Sam realized their strange behavior and raised a suspicious eyebrow up at them. “Am I…Uh…?”

“You’re fine,” Olivia began, abating the situation, quickly avoiding the awkward situation. Steve, who was blushing furiously, was grateful for this. “What’s up?”

“It’s Bucky. He’s waking up.”

She turned to Steve, trying to excuse herself. “I’m going…going to go check on him.” Steve nodded at her with a soft smile.

“Hey, sugar,” she said, entering the lab. Bucky was lying on a make-shift, Murphy bed type bunk in the corner of her lab. The doors of the lab had been turned tinted, to give Bucky some privacy as he slept. “Rise and shine, soldier,” she greeted with a soft smile, gently shaking his arm. He groaned as he sat himself up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.  “How are you feeling?” She asked, turning her attention to the counter beside him, preparing a syringe.

He sighed. “I’ve got a mind-splitting headache but…I’ve been worse…” he answered.

She nodded, noting this. “It’s the withdrawal.” She took his hands from his lap, examining them. “Shaking’s stopping, you’re on your way out. That’s good, Bucky,” She reassured. She took the syringe from the table and stuck it in his arm. “Potassium iodide, should help clear your head.” He nodded in understanding, avoiding her analytical gaze and stared at his feet, dangling from the edge of the bed. She sighed before stepping back to the counter and preparing another needle. “We were worried about you, y’know,” she said. This was her _tactic_. What seemed like a friendly conversation was her way of getting him to talk. If she appeared friendly, considerate, he would trust her more. Emotional bonds build trust. “We were worried that they got to you,” He was silent, staring down at the floor. “But, they didn’t…Did they?” He didn’t answer. She sighed again before reaching for his arm. The second her fingers brushed against his skin, he jumped. His left arm snatched hers, syringe in hand and his right grabbed a scalpel off of the table and pushed it against her neck. Olivia’s arm shot up, blocking the blade before it ever touched her skin. “Bucky…” she whispered. Her voice was soft, sweet and her eyes were navy, not bright blue and tender. Her face was stern, determined but she wasn’t scared. She was calm, like the eye of a storm, ready to unleash at any second.

His dark brown eyes went wide upon realizing what he was doing and his lips parted. The knife clattered to the floor. “…Oh-oh my God!” he muttered, retracting his hands. When he took his left hand off of her wrist, he saw the red marks around them, assuming he was the cause of them. “I-I…” he stuttered, backing away from her.

“Shh, Bucky, it’s okay,” she tried to console him.

“I-I hurt you-” he said, eyes glued to the red rings around her wrists.

“No, you didn’t, this wasn’t you,” She explained showing both wrists to him. “These are from the handcuffs, not you, you didn’t hurt me, I’m okay,” she explained calmly, taking a step toward him.

“I-I’m…I’m so sorry…” he shuttered.

“It’s okay, Bucky, it’s okay,” she said, “I should’ve warned you, I’m sorry.”

“I put a knife to your neck and _you_ apologize?” he asked, huffing a laugh.

“I just thought you had a better handle on your…jumpiness,” she said, choosing her words carefully. His eyes fell back down to the floor. “…Alright, something happened or else you wouldn’t be acting like this.” She gently took his hand in hers and sat him back down on the cot, trying to calm him down. She sat down next to him before ordering, “Tell me.” He didn’t answer as she took his hand, curled his fingers into a fist and finding a vein in the inside of his elbow. He paused at the touch, forgetting what it felt like just to have contact with someone. The human contact was strangely blissful, and contact with a beautiful woman was even better. “Come on, Bucky. Tell me. What’s going on inside your head?”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” he asked flatly.

“Y’know, technically, Steve wasn’t supposed to tell you anything about that,” she said, finding the vein and drawing blood.

“He tells me everything,” he replied with a smirk that quickly faded.

“…Tell me,” she said again, a navy piercing stare stabbing into his dark pupils.

He sighed, tears stinging into his eyes. “…I remembered.”

“…Bucky?” she asked, craning her neck to see his eyes which were darting away from her gaze.

He turned to her, eyes brimming up with tears. “I did some really horrible things, doll,” he said painfully, shuddering, hanging his head.

“Hey, look at me.” He reluctantly brought his eyes up. “That wasn’t _you_. You can’t be you when you don’t know who you are. What happened, that was Hydra and Zola, _not you_. A true soldier endures that’s all that you - _the real you -_ did. The rest wasn’t you.” He squeezed his eyes shut as tears rolled down his cheeks, he looked back down to their feet. “…And, you are so strong to have gone through that hell and come out in one piece on the other side. That’s all that the real you did, _stayed strong_.” He glanced up at her, eyes wide, gazing up at her as if she was a sudden burst of light in a world of darkness; a beautiful blonde light that gazed upon him ardently. She was strong and she was projecting this strength onto him. When she spun her tale of reassurance and sympathy, her voice was soft, tender, yet confident, bold. She had a look in her eyes that made everything around him seem to melt away, his breathing slowed and he felt a tug in the center of his chest. In the first few weeks of being back, she was _there_. She was the first person who didn’t stare at him as if he would snap at any moment. He thought that she was the best thing that ever could’ve happened to him. During those first couple weeks, she was his _hope_. Everything she said only intensified the tugging feeling in his chest. “Trust me, I know what this is like, _I do_. Thinking you’re a monster, thinking you’ll only hurt people. I know that feeling better than _anyone_. But…If you have the right person with you, you can turn yourself around…” She found her mind wondering back to what Steve had said, his voice echoing in her head. _You’re stronger than you know…_

But, that’s not what Bucky was thinking, _oh, hell no._ His mind was only on her and he couldn’t take it off of her. He jumped. He gripped her cheek with his metal hand and slammed his lips into hers. She gasped.

***

Steve was going over what she had said, the way she told him what she felt, the way she had that glimmer in her eyes, (that wasn’t from her powers,) and the way she glanced at him with so much… _hope._ The way she spoke about herself, calling herself a monster, the way she _genuinely_ asked why he wasn’t lying to her. _She’s a spy,_ he reminded himself, _she’s spent her life with manipulative liars, can you really blame her for being a cynic, for not trusting people? That poor thing… She deserves better, so much better. She’s so strong…yet, she’s so…broken. Is it possible to admire and want to help someone at the same time?_

 _Oh, God and the way she laughed,_ Steve smiled at the thought of her warm laugh rippling through him. _I wonder if I could get her to laugh again…_

Steve stood, his objective clear. He would walk in and ‘check in on Bucky’ and somehow throw a joke in there. _Oh, God, this is a horrible idea._ He opened the lab door, “Hey, Liv? I-” His voice froze in his throat upon seeing her sweet, red lips smooshed up against Bucky’s, very uncomfortably, it seemed. He clenched his jaw and fists, a burning fire catching in his gut.

She couldn’t move, not with a metal hand just inches from her trachea. Bucky pulled away upon hearing Steve enter and she immediately pried his hand off of her, rather violently, a movement Steve didn’t seem to notice, his eyes red. She shook her head at him, “Steve…” she whispered.

“Excuse me, I guess I should’ve knocked,” Steve snapped before storming out.

“Steve!” She called, chasing after him. He walked out of the plane into the snow by time she finally caught up with him. “Steve, wait!”

“Oh, no, please, don’t let _me_ interrupt!” He said, furiously, sarcastically, eye brows knit together.

“I can explain!” She said.

“Let me guess, it’s not what it looks like?” he asked, turning to her.

“Yes!” she cried in exasperation, Bucky leaving the lab and chasing after them.

He scoffed. “I should’ve known, Bucky always gets the girl.” He turned to continue in the other direction.

“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said, stepping out in front of him and putting a hand up into his chest and shoving him backward. “No one _gets_ me, alright?” she said, a heat pooling in blue light behind her eyes. “And, is _that_ what this is about?” she asked, her voice calm but angry. “…Are you jealous?”

“I’m just a little upset that, while people are trying to kill us and possibly others, the only thing you can seem to think about is… _canoodling_ with him!” he said. He wasn’t lying, he was angry that they were distracted but he failed to mention the _real_ reason he was acting this way.

“I wasn’t _canoodling_ with anyone! _He_ kissed me!” she said, not paying any attention to Bucky walking up behind Steve.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause anything. I didn’t know you two were-” Bucky began.

“We’re not,” she snapped, never taking her eyes off of Steve, still shooting him a glare.

“Look, we have a job to do and that takes priority. When we’re done, you two can do whatever the hell you want, I don’t care-”

“You _don’t_ care?!” She yelled, raising her eyebrows up at him, taking a step forward, and staring him down.

“Yeah, I don’t care!” The second the words spilled from his lips, he wished he could take them back.

She scoffed. “Y’know Rogers, if there’s one thing I hate more than liars… _it’s bad ones…”_ she snapped through gritted teeth. “ _Excuse me.”_  She pushed past him, storming back onto the plane.

 _I lied to her,_ he thought, _after everything she confided in me, after she put her trust in me, after she told me how much she was lied to and how much she hated it, I lied to her…_

“Olivia, wait!” He called, chasing after her, Bucky following. She ignored him, stepping into her lab, brow knit together. He raced into the lab. “Olivia-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Rogers,” she stated, keeping her back turned to him, Bucky entering behind him.

“Please, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t bother apologizing, Rogers. It was just a matter of time. I know how this works: he screws up, falls to his knees and promises never to do it again, but they _always_ do,” she snapped. “And, I’m left wondering why I was stupid enough to think you were different…” Steve felt a pit of guilt growing in his stomach. He opened his mouth to apologize but he was interrupted by the computer beginning to beep loudly. She sighed, stepping over to the computer. “…We’ve got him,” she stated, after deciphering the computer’s warning.

A beat of silence passed before Bucky finally found the nerve to speak up. “…Got who?”

***

Olivia was sitting at the table, Bucky across from her, Sam next to him and Steve leaning up against one of the counters. She leaned her elbow on the table, her palm up in the air, as if she was about to arm-wrestle someone. Bucky watched curiously as blue energy swam down her veins and into her palms and fingers, causing her skin to glow and a cloud of blue energy to gather in a cluster of blue light around her hand. He was just inches from her hand, eyes wide. He lifted his hand and reached out toward the light, like a kitten with a ball of string. When his pointer finger hit the light cluster and energy jumped to his metal fingertip like electricity, he twitched back. “…So, this is what Brock is after?” She nodded as she clenched her fist and the energy flew down in to her veins down her arm and dissolved out, floating above her forearm in a thin (but nearly impenetrable) sheet of blue, forming a shield.

He flicked the shield with his finger, causing a buzzing, zapping noise as the energy shifted followed immediately after with a muffled thud. Bucky sighed heavily. “They put the Tesseract in a _person_ …” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “…I hate the future.”

She smiled. “You haven’t seen the half of it,” she retorted. Bucky continued playing with the energy, curiously, hesitantly. Olivia ignored him, as if he was a toddler playing with a toy in the corner and the ‘adults’ of the room, Sam, Steve and Olivia, were to pay him no mind.

“So what does Hydra want with it?” Bucky asked.

“That’s what we don’t know. Although, with Hydra, it’s safe to assume they’re not planning on using it for anything good. It’s also safe to assume it’s big.”

“What about Brock?” Steve asked. “Did you get a read on him?”

Olivia sighed. “He blocked me out. I couldn’t get into his head…But he called me ‘Tessera.’ That was _Hydra’s_ name for me. And, as of now, I am the only connection between Hydra and the Tesseract. They don’t just want me, they _need_ me for … _whatever_ they had planned.”

“Well, the last time Hydra got its hands on something as powerful as _her_ ,” she shot Steve a glance with a proud smirk, “They almost killed millions. Something tells me they aren’t planning on selling Girl Scout cookies.”

“Whatever they’re doing, it’s going to be bad, _really bad,”_ Olivia concluded.

“Maybe we should call Fury, get some back up. One of those helicarriers would come in pretty handy right about now,” Sam suggested.

“The second I set foot on that train, I was disobeying Nick’s orders. Right now, we’re on the run from him. If we call him, he’ll take us all off of this mission and Hydra will take their opportunity before we even have a chance to get another team in there. Right now, we’re the only ones who can stop this from happening.”

“If ‘this’ is even anything at all. We don’t even know if they’re up to anything substantial.”

“When have they ever _not_ been up to something? They have blueprints of atomic bomb carriers, they have energy vacuums that can hold enough power to blow a sizable whole in the Western Hemisphere. Seriously, did you think they’d take down the world’s largest intelligence agency just so they can kick up their feet and take a nap?”

“She’s got a point,” Steve said.

“They’re going to be up something big and…I’m involved. I have to warn you guys, I don’t know what Brock is planning or what he _can_ do. He can manipulate me, as much as I hate it…If he does, I need you guys to get the hell out of there, get out of harm’s way.”

“…And, what? Just leave you there?” Steve asked.

“He could take me out of my skull. I won’t be able to control myself. If you guys don’t leave, you _will_ get hurt. I can’t let that happen…” she replied.

“So help me God, he will _not_ lay a finger on you-” Steve began.

“I don’t need saving, Steve,” she stopped him.

“I never said you did.”

“We aren’t leaving you, kid. Period,” Bucky spoke up.

“Exactly. You never leave _anyone_ behind. Ever-”

“Damn it, I will _not_ live through another Baghdad. If I go rogue, you get out. _That’s an order,”_ Olivia commanded.

“With all due respect, Olivia, you can’t give us orders,” Sam said.

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen to me.”

“You aren’t going to explode,” Steve began. “You’re smarter than that. You won’t let him manipulate you.”

She scoffed. “And, you know that?”

“I believe in you,” Olivia glanced up at him. “So far, you’ve survived an attack on the base, an ambush by _easily_ a few dozen agents, a party full of assassins _and_ the escape from that train and _you don’t have a scratch on you_.  You can handle this.”

She smiled softly up at him, a smile which he returned. Then, she turned her gaze to Bucky. “…What about you, Buck? You sure you’re ready to avenge your arm?”

“Doll face,” he said, clenching his metal fist. “I’m going to avenge a hell of a lot more than that.”

“Alright, so, correct me if I’m wrong, but, right now, the only thing standing between Brock and nuclear war are Sargent Spangles, Robocop, Birdbrain, and, me, Olivia, the ice princess…”

“I like those odds,” Steve stated.

“…What the hell is a ‘Robocop’?” Bucky asked.

“That’s not the point,” Olivia began.

“Exactly. The point is we’ve got someone else threatening to hurt innocent lives. Someone who’s hurt us all. They’ve done enough damage already, if you ask me. I’m tired of seeing people die because of some lunatic trying to prove a point. I’m tired of chasing leads, I’m tired of cutting off heads,” Steve said.

“…So, what do we do?” Sam asked.

“Burn the snake,” Olivia answered. A beat passed as they all exchanged looks. “Alright, good pep talk,” she muttered, standing and slapping a hand on Steve shoulder. “Let’s suit up, guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to put up! The next chapter will be up by the end of this week! That's a promise!


	10. Into the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the base the team goes, and they run into a few hauntingly-familiar faces.

The base was an old Castle in the French Alps; huge, falling apart, and covered in snow. One of the first things Olivia noticed was that striking similarity the base had to the one she was held captive in, but this didn’t distract her. If anything, it just fueled her desire to burn this damned thing to the ground. The castle was a decent 20 to 30 stories tall and it teetered on the edge of a snowy cliff. _Avoid at all costs,_ Olivia noted.  At the bottom of the castle was a ten foot stone wall with huge metal doors, guarding the only way in. She was able to, from afar, block the electricity from any security cameras that could alert the base to their presence. She blasted up over the wall, along with same. On the other side, only a few agents were walking through the yard, analyzing the train which had been stationed there, one of the cars blown out, all of them fully unloaded.

Olivia and Sam began taking out the agents while Steve and Bucky waited on the other side.

“This place looks oddly familiar,” Steve remarked.

“Trust me, after a while all of these bases start looking the same,” Bucky replied, before changing the subject. “So, what’s the situation with you and Agent Ritter?”

“Olivia?” Bucky nodded. “We…We don’t…We’re-We’re not…anything,” He stuttered.

Bucky snorted. “Oh, sure.”

“ _Really._ We’re not,” Steve defended, blushing slightly which could’ve easily been caused the cold wind.

“Stevie…” Bucky sighed, almost annoyed. “I’ve known you your whole life. You can’t lie to me.”

Olivia swung open the huge, metal door, leaning up against it and smirking at the two of them. “’ _Stevie,’_ you and Bucky should really do your gossiping when you’re not on coms.”

Bucky laughed, “Where’s the fun in that?” He shot Steve a knowing glance.

“Will you both just focus on the mission?” Steve said, avoiding the situation and entering the base.

Bucky and Olivia followed after. He smirked proudly at her before muttering, “You’re welcome.”

“Just keep moving, Barnes,” was her reply, followed by the same smirk. The two of them clicked on this level of mischief. Given the opportunity, the two would’ve definitely gotten into a prank war that could only end in Olivia hiding his arm.

“Olivia, can you read this place?” Steve spoke up, “I’d like to know what we’re up against.”

She nodded. Blue energy flowed across her eyes but then she cried out in pain. She sealed her eyes shut, bringing her hands up to her temples as she winced, the scar on the back of her neck suddenly buzzing under her skin. They all took notice. Steve stepped over to her, asking, “Are you alright? What is it?”

She winced again, letting out an inward hiss, clenching her eyes shut. “…Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine,” She managed. “…It’s alright, I just…wasn’t expecting that,” She explained, her navy eyes fluttering open again.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“I sense the energy signatures around me like radar, I send energy out, and it bounces back…But, this time, it all came back at once, I just…wasn’t expecting it.”

“You going to be alright?” Steve asked, she nodded in reply. “Could you see anything?”

‘No, they’re all just…blurs,” She said, trying to explain it the best she could. “They’re blocking me out somehow.”

“They can do that?” Sam asked.

She gave a weak shrug. “Guess so.”

“You can’t see them at all?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“This just got a whole lot harder.”

“We’re just going to have to be a bit more careful,” Steve said, trying to keep everyone calm.

“We should split up or else it’s going to take us an eternity to get through here,” Bucky said, eyeing the place.

“You’re right,” Steve began. “Sam, you and Bucky go search through the west wing, Olivia and I will take the east. We’re looking for that plane. If you see anything, _anything_ suspicious, let us know. Stay as hidden as possible, don’t draw attention to yourselves or else that entire base will be on us in seconds. Olivia, watch your back, they need you to get that plane in the air. They’re going to be after you more than any of us.” She nodded. “Call for back up if you need it, move quickly.”

“What about Brock?” Bucky asked. “He’s in there and God only knows what he’s up to. Someone should go after him.”

“…I’ll do it,” Olivia answered.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Steve began.

“Think about it. If anyone else goes after him, he _will_ kill you. You said yourself, he needs me; he won’t hurt me.”

“Olivia, that’s exactly what he wants; get you separated-”

“I know. But nothing will stop him from getting to me that includes you guys. He will kill you to get to me, I can’t let that happen. It’s safer this way, I’ll ask for help if I need it, let you know where he is once I find him.”

“You sure you can do this?”

“I don’t need saving.”

“…You’ll let us know when you find him?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sighed, caving. “Alright. Let’s go.”

They all entered into the foyer of the old castle, Sam and Bucky ran down the west corridor, Steve to the east and Olivia up the stairs.

They all searched for all of three minutes before they all decided that the base was almost entirely empty.

Steve was greeted with a series of rooms full with various labs and files, things he really couldn’t make sense of.  A few agents were roaming the halls there and he quickly disabled them, but, other than that, the place was empty. Sam and Bucky found a few empty rooms but nothing of any interest. Olivia, on the other hand, found a hall, which was once probably a ball room or dining hall, or something of the sort. The door to which was guarded with about half-a-dozen agents, she disabled them, zapping them with a shock blue energy to their necks, causing them to fall unconscious. She pressed down on her necklace. “Hey, guys? I’m at the North West corner, I’ve got a few guards out here. Heavy artillery,” she muttered as she stepped over the unconscious agents, stepping into the large room. She immediately noticed something at the end of the room: a huge, metal archway. “Well, this is interesting,” she muttered.

“Uh, we’ve got something, too,” Sam’s voice buzzed in her ear.

She opened her mouth to say something more but she was cut off but then she felt a zapping, buzzing pain at the back of her neck. She gasped, feeling her knees go weak. Everything went black.

“Can’t sense me with that on, can you, rookie?” Brock whispered as he tore off the metal helmet, catching her as she fell backward into his arms, one hand clutching an electric baton.

_Well, that was fast._

***

“Sam, what d’ya got?” Steve asked, beginning to head in their direction.

“The plane,” Bucky answered simply, staring down the hidden corridor that led to an underground aircraft hangar. And there it was, in all its destructive glory: The Valkyrie. Agents in the hundreds were scrambling, loading batteries, shouting orders and packing up files, normal evil agent type things. It was a buzzing ants nests of agents in black.

“Where are you guys?”

“South West corner, first floor,” Sam answered.

“I’m on my way,” He replied immediately, starting in their direction. “Olivia, meet me there in two.” He didn’t hear her copy but thought nothing of it.

“You guys are going to need help with that,” A new voice buzzed over coms.

Steve stopped in his tracks. “…Nick?”

“You really didn’t think you could run from me, did you?” He laughed and Steve sighed. “We’ve got reinforcements. Gathered up a few friends. ETA: two minutes.”

“Copy that,” Steve muttered, agitated. When he found Sam and Bucky, hiding safely at the end of the hall, out of sight. Steve glanced down the hall, muttering, “Good God…”

“Right?” Bucky muttered back. “And, just when I thought they couldn’t get any crazier.”

“Nick, you’ve heard of the Valkyrie, right?” Steve asked.

“Yeah?”

“They’ve rebuilt it.”

“Copy. I’ve got two hundred agents with me, we’ll help you take it down. Just give us some time,” Nick said, sitting in the back of the transport vehicle with agents surrounding him.

“Two hundred? How’d you find that many agents?”

“I have my ways,” He replied smugly. “And, Liv, young lady, we’ll talk about you disobeying my orders when this is all over. You haven’t gotten out of anything.”

They all exchanged looks. “Steve, where’s Liv?” Sam asked.

“Olivia? Where are you?” Steve asked. No answer. “Olivia, come in.”

“My God, he’s got her,” Bucky concluded, eyes going wide.

“Olivia!” Steve tried again. No answer. Just static. “She said she was in the North West corner.”

They all stood, running in her direction. “If they get to her, that plane goes up in the air. We’ve got to find her,” Sam concluded.

When they arrived at the room with the arch way, they found nothing but a few unconscious agents and no one to be found.

***

When Olivia regained consciousness, she was lying in a metal chair, hands and legs restrained. Her hair had been taken out of its ponytail and was now resting on her shoulders. She squirmed, trying to break free until a voice to her left growled, “There’s no point in resisting…” She glanced over to see Brock, grinning down at her. “You’ve got nowhere to run.”

She gave him a blank stare not angry, not afraid, blank. This was an interrogation tactic. He couldn’t get a beat off of her and didn’t know how to begin. He was standing over at a computer against the wall, typing in things. On the desk next to him, she noticed a metal helmet with a white, spray-painted ‘x’ over the front. “You like it?” He asked, making an oddly casual conversation. “Vibranium. Blocks out energy waves. You can ask your little friend about that…That is if you see him again,” he grinned at her but she just kept up her blank stare. “I can’t believe you thought you could handle this one on your own… I mean, don’t get me wrong, I admire your confidence, but did you really think you could do this by yourself?”

 _He didn’t know._ “I have, I can and I will. This isn’t the first time I’ve destroyed one of your bases, I’ll gladly do it again,” she replied.

“I’d like to see you try, Rookie.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirked up at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. This is what you were meant to do, what you were _born_ to do.”

“What you _made_ me do. I wasn’t born for _any_ of this,” she growled.

“Oh, but, you _were…_ Norse myth tells of a woman, a warrior. Legend tells that this woman decided who lived and who perished in battle. This is who you were born to be, Olivie. And, today, you will fulfill your destiny. Today…You will become _our_ Valkyrie,” he spoke grandly, as if he was giving a sermon.

“You’re insane,” she snapped, seeing the crazed look behind his eyes.

“You’re one to talk. You see, Rookie, that’s always been your weakness, you refuse to recognize your weaknesses.”

“Or, maybe, I’m just stronger than you know.”

“Oh, no, Liv…” Brock replied before pressing one of the buttons on the keyboard. She felt an acute pain that began at the back of her neck, sizzled from the top of her head down to her toes, buzzing in her ears, zapping under her skin, like every nerve she had was firing all at once. She screamed out in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. Brocks smile widened. When the pain stopped, she realized she couldn’t feel her legs, as if they weren’t even there. Her eyes fluttered open again, glowing bright blue. “I know your weaknesses because I helped create them…” He pressed the button and she yelled out again. When it stopped, she couldn’t feel her arms or torso, let alone move them. Breathing became more difficult, barely finding the strength, the energy to suck air into her lungs. She glanced around the room, frantically, for anything; a weapon, an energy source, anything to stop the pain. That’s when she noticed one of the black boxes at her side. That’s when she realized: _they were sucking the energy out of her._ He zapped her again and she screamed louder, hoping someone would hear her. “Welcome home, Rookie,” he muttered before moving to slam down on the button again but he froze when the computer started beeping, red lights flashing. He analyzed the screens before starting to laugh slowly… _insanely._ “Wow…You little liar!” he growled. He undid the restraints before angrily grabbing her by her arms and tossing her to the floor. She couldn’t find the energy to brace herself so she slammed down on the stone floor. “You brought your little buddies along with you!” He kicked her in the side and she cried out, unable to breathe, let alone fight back. “YOU FUCKING LIAR!” He screamed, kicking her in the stomach again. He picked her up by her collar as she gasped for air weakly. “Don’t you ever lie to me again, or else, you’ll be getting what your friends are about to get,” he hissed before upper cutting her in the jaw and causing her to go flying down to the ground again. “…Bitch…” he muttered before grabbing the box from the corner of the room, ripping the cords out of it and storming out of the room, closing the door behind him. She wanted to yell, to scream, to tear him to pieces, but as she lied on the floor in the fetal position, she could barely breathe. She wheezed every shallow breath, gasping for air. A single tear fell down her face and onto the floor as the lights buzzed quietly above her head. Her gut was wrenching and she felt a cool stream of blood drip from her nose as her vision blurred, both from tears and from fading consciousness. A familiar voice in her ear called her name, muffled.

“Olivia, come in…”

“…Steve…” She identified the voice, barely making a sound. She almost mouthed his name. There was no way he was going to hear her.

“Nick, we lost Liv! We think Brock’s got her!” Sam yelled.

“Her necklace!” Steve came to a sudden conclusion.

“What?”

“Her necklace! It’s a tracking device! Nick?”

“On it,” Nick replied, pushing agents out of the way as he typed things into a computer that was up against the side of the van. A small blue dot appeared on the screen, giving away her location. "South East corner, third floor!”

“Copy that!” Bucky yelled into his radio as they all began running toward her.

Nick turned to the driver of the van, shouting, “Hurry the hell up!”

Olivia glanced around the room for anything that could help her regain her energy and she glanced up at the computer. She slowly pushed herself off of the floor, her arms shaking, blood dripping from her nose and mouth onto the floor. She clawed her way to the computer, using only her arms, pushing herself up into a sitting position and slamming her back against the huge machine. She raised an arm above her head, palm open. Energy flew from the screen into her palm, down her veins. She groaned slightly as the energy prickled down her muscles, recharging them. The screens went black and she used the machine to help her claw her way up to her feet. She began limping, stumbling (almost as if she was drunk,) toward the door. She slammed her fist down on a button on the door and it slid open. On the other side, she found two agents who didn’t look particularly happy to see her.

“Hey!” One of them shouted.

As Steve, Bucky and Sam made their way down the hall, they saw two agents get blasted into the wall behind them. Then on the opposite side of the hall, Olivia stumbled out, leaning against the door jamb, barely able to stand.

She looked up at them, huffing a stray hair out of her face. She clutched at her side, riddled with pain, knowing Brock probably, at the very least, bruised her ribs, maybe broke one of them. “…Hi,” she replied blandly, brushing the blood from her nose with the heel of her hand.

“Oh, my God!” Steve said, racing to her side. She looked pale and gray, her eyes were sunken in along with her cheeks. Her lip was busted and her tongue was now poking at the corner of her mouth, swiping away the blood. She had a newly forming bruise on her left cheek and she moved as if the whole room was spinning. He, without thinking, cupped her cheek gently, careful not to hurt her. “What happened?” he asked, slinging her arm over his shoulder and gently leading her away from the doorway. She shifted her weight with a wince and inward hiss as his arm wrapped around her waist, trying to keep her upright. Her hand grasped at his forearm when his hand brushed against her bruised side, her fingernails clutching at the flesh of his shoulder. He watched her, worry in his eyes as she waved her hair out of her face.

“It was Brock…” she answered, wheezing, “He sucked the energy out of me.” She coughed and he instinctively pulled her closer into his shoulder.

“He can do that?” Bucky asked.

“Guess so,” she replied.

“That’s not the point,” Steve said, returning his attention to her, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine…Just a little…” she winced again. “…Dizzy, is all.” Her knees gave out and she stumbled into him, his grip on her tightened. “What about the plane? Did you guys find it?”

“Don’t worry about that-” Steve began.

“Did you?” she asked again, he nodded in response. “That’s where he’s going. He took my energy, and he’s going to use it to power the plane.”

“We need to get you to help,” Steve said.

“I’m alright, Steve,” she insisted.

“Olivia-”

“ _Stop! Freeze!”_ Voices erupted from the hallway behind them as agents began storming in their direction.

Olivia’s gaze snapped over Steve’s shoulder to see half-a-dozen armed agents charging toward them. “…Shit.”

Bucky raised his gun and began firing into the crowd as Steve, as gently as he could, scooped Olivia up into his arms and started running in the opposite direction.

Bullets sped past their ears and, instinctively, Olivia raised her forearm, shielding the back of Steve’s head from the bullets flying around them. He immediately noticed this and shouted “Don’t! Save your energy!”

To which she replied, “A bullet to the back of _your_ head won’t help either of us!” She blasted the rest of the agents away.

As soon as they were far enough away, they ducked into small room and Steve gently set Olivia down on the floor. “Are you alright? You hit?” He asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, a bit stronger. Panting but not wheezing anymore. Some of her color had returned and she didn’t stumble when she returned to her feet. Although she was still clutching her side, wincing slightly.

“You sure?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve been feeding off your energy since you got here. _I’ll be fine,”_ she reassured, her voice was calm and unwavering, like it always was. He nodded, removing his hands from around her waist, now sure she could stand on her own. She smiled softly up at him.

“…Okay,” he replied softly.

“I’ve got a visual on Brock,” Bucky said, staring out of a small window in the room that looked down at the empty room with the archway. Brock sauntered in and set the black box down next to the huge, metal arch way. He smiled proudly up at it. Olivia clenched her fists and set her jaw. Steve noticed this immediately and shot an asking glance at her.

She noticed and, without taking her angry eyes off of the arch, answered, “There, that’s my energy,” she pointed toward the black box that had energy zapping into the air around it like static electricity.

“What’s he using it for?” Sam asked.

“I’ve seen what that stuff can do and, frankly, you don’t wanna know,” Bucky replied.

Brock pressed a few buttons on the arch and there was a small buzzing noise before a thin, opaque, blue shock wave filled the room.

“Get down!” Steve shouted, pulling her down against his chest and shielding them. The shock wave hit them and the glass window shattered.

When they all lifted their heads again to see the aftermath of the explosion, they saw a new man had joined room. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Bucky muttered upon recognizing the infamous Red Skull.

“Son of a bitch,” Steve added.

“I’m sorry but who is that guy?” Sam asked.

“Johann Schmitt, A.K.A The Red Skull, original founder of Hydra,” Olivia answered as if it was an essay question.

“Oh, shit…” Sam muttered, “How is he alive?”

“I have no idea,” Steve answered.

“The Tesseract killed him, right?” Olivia asked.

“I thought so,” Steve shrugged, “apparently not.”

“Alright, dude, look, there is no grey area with this, either he’s dead or he’s not,” Sam stated.

“He picked up the cube and he disappeared, he like… _dissolved,”_ Steve explained.

“Oh, God,” Olivia muttered.

“What?”

“The Tesseract is a door way to the other end of space…Don’t you think it’s possible that he didn’t die…he was just teleported?” Olivia said.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “…And, they just teleported him back.”

“Mhm, using _my_ energy.”

“So, you guys know this guy? What’s his play? How do we attack?” Sam asked.

“He’s crazy. He’s power hungry, obsessed and he’s going to try to take over whatever he can get his hands on.”

“God complex, he wants control,” Olivia added.

“That’s why they have the Valkyrie,” Sam concluded.

“Good God, he’s going to finish what he started. He’s going to start World War Three,”

“We have to get in there,” Steve said.

“No, not yet,” Olivia ordered. “He craves control, if we go down there now, he’ll take control or, at least, try to. He will go absolutely insane if we try to take control. There’s no telling what he’ll do.”

Bucky scoffed. “He’s been here, what, two seconds? And, Liv’s already picking apart his brain.”

She shrugged. “Habit.”

“So, Olivia, what do we do? Wait here?” Steve asked.

“…If we go down there, we have to let him think he’s in control. We need a plan,” she answered.

“By the time we come up with a plan, he could-”

“Shh!” she said, clapping a hand over Steve’s mouth as Brock helped Schmitt off of the ground.

“Welcome back, sir,” he muttered.

“Thank you, Crossbones,” Schmitt replied.

“It is an honor to finally meet you, Herr Schmitt. Welcome to the new Hydra, sir.”

“What of the girl? The one you told me about?” _How have they been communicating?_ “I take it you’ve found her…Unless you’ve found another way to find the energy?”

“Yes, sir. We have her.”

“Bring her to me.”

“She’s weak, sir. She can’t-”

“Bring her to me!” He exploded.

“Y-Yes, sir.” This was the first time Olivia ever saw true fear in Brock’s eyes. He waved two agents out of the room and they went running.

Olivia gasped. “I have an idea.” She began speaking into her radio. “Nick, how many agents you got down there?”

Nick let out a sigh of relief upon hearing her voice, knowing she was okay. “200,” he answered.

“Tell them all to suit up. The Red Skull is here and he’s alive. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Get them ready, wait for my word.”

“Copy that.”

“Steve, Sam, come with me, I have a plan.”

When the two agents turned the corner, they were met with either a shield to the head or a zap to the back of the neck. They both fell unconscious.

***

Olivia was yanked into the room, her hands in gloved handcuffs behind her back as two agents, dressed in Kevlar and helmets dragged her in. Her hair was down and falling in front of her face as she weakly stumbled with them. She fought against them hopelessly, snarling like an animal, trying to break free but she didn’t get very far in that endeavor. They forced her to her knees in front of Brock and Schmitt. She flipped her head up, her hair flying up and landing on her shoulders. She sent Brock a glowing blue glare. “This is her, sir.”

Schmitt analyzed her before stating “…This isn’t the powerful being you described…”

“We had to use some of her energy to get you here, sir. She’s weak but she’ll recover.”

“…So, this is The Great Tessera?” he asked, unimpressed.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, they paid her no attention.

He stepped up to her. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” he said, running his hands through her hair.

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” She said, twitching away from his touch.

“…And, stubborn…”

“Not for long, sir. She will be obedient.”

“ _Never._ I’d rather die than take orders from you, you fascist asshole.”

“You dare speak to him?! You unruly bitch!” Brock yelled, stepping toward her, ready to strike. She stared him down, not flinching. _Fucking try me, dickhead._ Schmitt waved him down.

He slowly knelt down in front of her. “Frauline…” He whispered, “You don’t have a choice.”

She spat in his face. “The hell I don’t.” He slapped her across her face, causing her hair to fan out as her head turned with the slap. She felt the agent to her left shift uncomfortably. _Turn the pain into power._ She recovered, flipping her hair over her shoulder again, tilting her head up at them as she glared at him. There was blood appearing at the corner of her mouth again and she spat it to the floor. “That the best you’ve got?” She muttered. “Y’know, you’re supposed to be super human, but even Brock has hit harder than that.”

Schmitt scoffed. “Take her away,” he ordered.

The agents peeled her off of the ground by her arms. The agent to her left yanked her back but she didn’t budge. When he tried again, she wrapped her gloved hand around his, intertwining her fingers with his. The ‘agent’ froze. “You’re going to lose…” she muttered.

Schmitt turned back to her. “You are in chains, you bow to me on your knees…how are you going to stop me? I already have won.”

“That’s what you think. But, the last time something like this happened, 6 million people died. Do you honestly believe we’d let this happen again? We have evolved, Johann. We’ve gotten stronger. We’re a brave, new world. And you? Just an obsolete, outdated member of a pathetic cult,” she snapped, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

“Humans may have evolved but they will never be stronger than me. I am-”

“What? A god? A ruler? No, we’ve seen _real_ gods, you’re no god. You think you’re something more but you’re nothing. Take away all that science and what’s left? A shriveled up, pathetic man. And they will stop you, they will turn someone as worthless as you into dust, without hesitation, without fail.”

He hesitated. “…’They?’”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Brock scoffed. “They-” she huffed a laugh before correcting herself, “ _We_ will stop you.”

“You can try. Cut off one head, two-”

“Oh, please, spare me the mantra.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is dead, sir,” Brock said, stepping up to Schmitt, “They have no power left.”

“Oh, they’re anything but dead. They’re alive, they’re strong, brave, _selfless_ …”

He growled, grabbing her by her jaw, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “You will learn to hold your tongue!”

She laughed wryly. “Fine. Don’t take my word for it…After all…” She shot him a glowing blue glare before saying, “…you’ve met its’ name-sake.”

The agent to her left jumped, peeling off his helmet and pulling his gun from his belt, aiming it over her left shoulder at Schmitt. “Get your god damn hands off of her now!” Steve shouted, stepping out in front of her, protectively.

Brock aimed his gun up at Steve’s forehead, shouting, “Drop it!”

Olivia snapped through her chains, energizing her muscles. She stepped behind him, aiming her hand over Steve’s shoulder at Brock. “Don’t even think about it,” she growled.

Sam (the second agent) aimed his gun up at the rest of the agents in the room and, in turn, they aimed up at him.

“H-How are you alive?” Schmitt asked, staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied.

“Alright, let’s just everyone calm down,” Brock said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“What’s the matter? Scared, Brock?” Olivia asked.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me? We both know you’re not going to do that,” he replied.

“Fucking try me,” she snarled.

“You don’t have the upper hand, here, Liv.”

“Don’t I?” She said with a smirk. “Bucky?” A red dot suddenly appeared in the center of Schmitt’s forehead.

Steve sighed. “Well, as much as I’d _love_ to say and chat…” Steve’s shield came flying into the room from where Bucky was, still in the room, aiming his gun down at Schmitt, and the shield attached itself to his arm. “…I’m a bit low on time.”

Olivia pounced. She jumped over Steve’s shoulder, blasting herself into the air and talking Brock. Steve began fighting Schmitt as Bucky took out agents in the room, one by one, Sam helping take some of them out.

Olivia pinned Brock against the wall, slamming him into it. He shoved her off of him, pushing her back violently. She flipped away from hip, kicking his gun out of his hands in the process. She reached into her sleeves, grabbing the knives hidden there. She managed to slice a section of his cheek before he grabbed both of her hands. She struggled against his grasp before he muttered, “Up your sleeves, huh? They let you keep blades that close to your wrists?” She growled in anger before she sunk one of the knives into his shoulder. He cried out in pain before growling and lunging at her, throwing a punch. She dodged it and managed to punch him in the side of the head before she zapped him in the side and he cried out in pain before wrestling her off of him, punching her in the nose. She stumbled backward before he knocked her down to the floor again. She jumped to her feet as he grabbed his discarded gun from the ground and fired it up at her, blasting her with blue energy with the hope that it would overload the device in her neck. She flipped backward, springing off of her hands and landing with her knees bent. As she flipped, the blast hit her straight in the chest, forcing her backward. When she landed, the momentum of the blast kept her skidding backward, one leg out and one hand skimming across the floor, out in front of her, slowing her to a stop. She flipped her head up, her loose hair fanning out before coming to the rest on her shoulders. Through a few stray hairs, he could just make out an evil smirk on her face before a wave of blue energy danced across her eyes, racing down her face, neck and arms, pooling in a terrifying glow in her hands, her entire fist glowing. _He was powering her._ When she saw the terrified look on his face, her smirk broke out into a devious grin. Then, she blasted herself forward, slamming into him and pinning him against the wall, ten feet in the air. She growled as she slammed him down on the floor, knocking him unconscious.

She landed back on the ground, tucking the knives back into her sleeves. She pressed her necklace, speaking into the microphone, “Nick, send them in.”

Agents began storming the base, flooding into the aircraft hangar and the huge empty room, helping fight off the hydra agents. She towered over him, ready to blast him away. That was, until, she heard the sound of Steve struggling.

She turned to find him and Sam being swarmed and overtaken by agents. She ran over to them as Bucky descended into the room, shooting down a couple agents. She blasted a few agents down when she noticed Steve’s shield lying on the floor. She picked it up off of the ground. “Steve!” she called, tossing it to him and stepping out in front of him, back to the swarming agents. She crouched down as she hid behind his shield. She blasted it, energy radiating out in a wave as the shield rang out like a gong. As the wave hit the agents, it zapped them, causing them to all fall unconscious. She stood, breathing heavily. Her eyes turned back to their normal navy as she blew a stray hair out of her face.

“Well, damn, that might have come in handy,” Bucky remarked.

“How’d did you know that would work?” Steve asked.

“Vibranium. Doesn’t absorb energy waves,” she answered.

“Hey, guys, where’s Schmitt?” Sam asked, glancing around the room.

“…You’re kidding me…” Bucky muttered.

“He got away?!” Olivia exclaimed.

“Come on, he’s going to the hangar!” Steve said and the group starting toward the door. Olivia hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at Brock’s unconscious body. Steve glanced back at her. “Olivia?”

“Coming,” she answered, running toward them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters left, they're all typed up and ready to post!


	11. The Revenge and The Sacrafice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve confronts a horrible reminder of his past and Olivia does the same. The only question: will they both survive?

Upon arriving in the hangar, they found both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra agents crowed around the plane, gunfire echoing throughout the room. The only good sign? The engines hadn’t started sputtering yet. “Steve,” Olivia muttered, pointing up at the plane, up at Schmitt who was quickly scurrying inside.

He nodded. “Sam, Bucky, can you hold down the ground?”

“On it,” Sam said, flying off into the crowd.

“Olivia, can you give me a lift?”

“Roger that,” she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and soaring up into the plane.

The adrenaline stabbing its way into her veins had made her completely forget about her cracked ribs as she dragged the super-soldier through the air. She was careful to land silently, walking around on the balls of her feet, _attack mode._ Steve motioned for her to go left and he went right, closing Schmitt off, cornering him as he stood at the plane’s controls, muttering furious things in German as he angrily pressed buttons and flipped switches. Behind the pilot’s seat, a line of four metal boxes lined either wall. Each with a blue clock in the center, reading 01:00.

Steve glanced over at Olivia who was skillfully waiting in the shadows. She nodded at him calmly, she was ready. Almost as if he sensed him, Schmitt looked over his shoulder at Steve and grimaced. “You again,” he growled. He raised his gun up at Steve and Olivia’s breath hitched. Half-a-second later, she was raising her arm, blasting him down. Schmitt flew down to the ground, knocking his head on the metal flooring.

Olivia sighed heavily, glancing up at Steve who had his eyebrows raised at her. “What? Expecting something a bit more dramatic?” she asked.

Steve huffed a laugh. “Eight atomic bombs is dramatic enough for me,” he said, pointing toward them.

The knelt to one of them, examining it. “This is my energy. I can disable it,” she concluded. “Just got to take back what’s rightfully mine. Meanwhile, do you think you can get a look at the controls, see if you can find an emergency brake? They still might be able to activate this thing remotely.”

“Yeah,” he replied, standing and sitting down in the pilot’s seat, taking hold of the controls. Everything was updated but the layout of the buttons, switches, and gauges was all exactly the same…and in German. He sighed heavily.

“Everything alright, Steve?” Olivia asked over her shoulder as she raised a hand and began sucking the blue energy out of the first set of bombs.

“Uh…it’s pretty hard to explain…” he replied.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. There was a split second when he was about to answer, then he went silent, reality fading around him into thin air, like he was waking up from a dream and the image in front of him now was _actually_ reality. “Steve, talk to me, what is it?” He didn’t answer and he was too quiet, she knew immediately what was happening. “Hey, Steve! Talk to me, tell me what’s going on!” When he didn’t answer again, she dug into his head; Ice, wind howling through the broken windshield, a warm, familiar and breaking voice cracking through the speaker. _He was having a flashback._

She was just about to open her mouth to say something when a surge of blue energy flashed through the wires of the plane. When she glanced down at the bombs, all of the countdowns had begun. _59, 58, 57, 56, 55…_

“My God…” she muttered, moving to the next pair of bombs, sucking energy out of them faster, groaning slightly as the energy stung through her. “Steve, I see what’s in your head and I need you to know that it’s not real, okay? It’s not real, you’re having a flashback.” She spoke calmly yet loudly, making sure he heard her. “You’re not there, it’s not real!” _49, 48, 47, 46, 45…_ “Steve, can you hear me?!”

“…Yeah,” he replied finally, quietly, slowing finding a glimpse of reality again.

She sighed relieved. “Good…now, I need you to tell me what my name is.” He hesitated as she began taking energy out of the third pair of bombs. “Come on, Steve, what’s my name?”

“…O-Olivia…” he muttered. “…Olivia Ritter.”

“Good. Good, Steve, stay with me,” She said, calmly. “What do you see? What’s right in front of you?”

“…A sunset,” he answered, looking out the windshield at the sun slowly lowering on the horizon, turning the sky slightly pink.

“Good, Steve, tell me about the controls.”

“…They’re in German,” he answered.

“Okay, I need you to look for a brake. _Bremse_. B-r-e-m-s-e.”

He nodded before searching the control panel. “Got it,” he said, finding the appropriate switch and flipping it before practically springing out of that seat and joining her in the back. She was wincing slightly as energy flew from the last two bombs into her palms. He saw them ticking down. “Olivia-”

“Stay back!” she ordered. “There’s…There’s too much energy in here… I won’t be able to handle it…” she panted, growing worried. “I might be able to hold it but only for a few seconds. I need you to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he answered sternly.

“I wasn’t asking,” she stated.

“Don’t worry about me. Focus on breathing, keeping yourself calm.”

“Steve-”

“Breathe, relax and focus. Don’t focus on me, I’m not even here. You’re stronger than you know, Olivia.”

She listened, taking in a deep breath as she looked down at the countdown. She felt the energy stinging and burning under every inch of her skin as she was reaching the brink of what she could handle, reaching her limits. But she pushed herself, thinking about what would happen if she didn’t.

When she absorbed all of the energy, she dropped her hands, gasping for breath, coughing slightly. She fell to her knees and he helped her back up. She clutched to his arms as she stumbled to her feet. Her eyes were glowing bright along with the veins in her eyes, cheeks and her forearms and hands. She brought her bright eyes up to his and energy zapped from her scalp down to the tips of her long hair, causing her blonde hair to go blue. His eyes went wide. “Does…Does it always do that?”

She glanced down at her hair. She swallowed. “…Uh…Nope, no, that-that’s new,” she chuckled.

“Are you alright?”

“…Surprisingly…” she sighed, “…Yeah, I’m fine. Although, I’d like to get rid of this energy, ASAP.” She glanced down to the hangar, the agents fighting. “And I know just where I want to use it,” she smirked, her hair returning back to its normal blonde.

“Let’s do it.”

She pressed down on her necklace. “Hey, Sam? We’ve got some trash for you to take out up here.”

“Copy that.”

***

Sam and Bucky helped drag Schmitt’s barely conscious body toward the exit, Steve and Olivia following. As they passed the empty room with the archway, Olivia realized that Brock’s body was gone. She stopped dead in her tracks. “You guys go, get him out of here. Keep an eye on him, he got away from us once.”

“And, what about you?” Sam asked, stopping the entire group.

“Brock’s still out there, he’s dangerous, there’s no telling what he’ll do. I’ll contain him and meet you out there. But, whatever happens, do not come back in,” she ordered.

“But, Liv, you could-” Bucky began.

“I’m not letting Brock hurt you! You’ve done your part, now go!” They hesitated. “ _Go!_ ”

Hesitantly, they obeyed, taking Schmitt toward the exit and toward the containment vehicles waiting outside. She started toward the inside of the house, Steve silently began running beside her. She sighed. “What are you doing, Steve?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he replied.

“I don’t need saving.”

“I know you don’t. He kidnapped my friend and beat up another, I’ve got a bone to pick with him, too,” he explained.

She sighed. “Fine. We’ll split up.”

“You sure that’s a good idea. Didn’t work out so well last time.”

“There’s too much ground to cover and not a lot of time. I’ll search the North wing, you take the south. If either of us finds him, we radio the other, deal?”

“Deal.” She stared off toward the North wing. “Hey, Olivia?” She turned back to him. “What are you going to do…if you find him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something tells me you’re not just going to contain him.”

“No, Steve. I’m going to avenge myself,” she smiled at him before she started toward the North side again.

***

He was running through the emptying base. An alarm had been sounded and hydra agents were clearing out. The rooms were dark, only illuminated by flashing red emergency lights as alarms screamed in the distance. He ran and ran until he was alone in the labyrinth of stone walls. His breathing was heavy and his ears were ringing.

Then the lights (or, what remained of them,) sizzled out. He gasped at the change, the room going silent and cold. He stopped in his tracks, eyes scanning his dark surroundings. His hot breath fogged the chilly air around him. He snapped in the direction of every sound, every tiny moment, He slowly turned himself in a circle, breathing heavily and raggedly. As he turned, he noticed a dark figure standing in the corner, eyes glowing bright blue. His eyes glazed over it then he did a double take, snapping his gaze back.  The figure was gone. His eyes went wide, breathing heavier. “Come on, Liv…” he muttered, never lowering his gun. “Let’s not play games…” The hallway was empty and silent. After waiting for her to reply, which she didn’t, he raced out of there.

Meanwhile, Rogers was infiltrating the security office. The room was full of monitors and agents scrambling around.

“No, sir, we don’t have a visual on Tessera,” one of them stated.

“Keep looking. She’s here. What about Rogers?” Brock replied.

“We don’t-” Voices grumbled and the sounds of fists landing and people grunting erupted through his ear piece. Then static buzzed. He swallowed hard, running faster.

He ran to another underground aircraft hangar, exactly like the first, only this one had about two dozen jets waiting there, and no agents. He unlocked the door with a hand print scanner and ran into the huge hangar. He ran down the steps onto the tarmac and began sprinting toward one of the jets.

A blue-gloved hand rested against the scanner, gently. Then…the glass shattered and the door slid open.

“There’s no point in running,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the room. He jumped at the sound of her voice, turning and seeing her standing at the top of the steps, staring calmly down at him. He lifted his gun and fired up at her. She didn’t even flinch as she lifted her arm and shielded herself. She half-pouted before lowering her arm, the crumpled bullet falling to the ground.

He switched tactics, lowering his gun and raising an open palm up at her. “…Olivia-” he said, beginning to reason with her.

“Oh, is that my name now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow up at him, lips thinning. “…Or, is it Tessera?”

He slowly backed away, taking small steps. “Liv…baby…”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, but keeping her calm aura.

“Whatever you’re planning…It won’t end well…for any of us.”

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “That’s the best you’ve got?” He stiffened. “A pathetic attempt at reasoning?” she asked, floating down slowly, joining him on the tarmac. “No…we’re past that.”

“I’m trying to warn you,” he said, still backing away slowly. She watched him curiously. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, knowing that the words he was saying were getting through to her, one of the only powers he thought he still had over her. “There’s a lot of energy in here…” he explained, trying his best to keep his eyes on her. “…You don’t want to lose control.”

She paused, considering what he said. She glanced down at her palms, examining them. He calmed for a moment, thinking that he may have bought himself sometime, at the very least. Then, she raised her hand, flicking a finger to one side, casually; as if she was flicking away a fly. Then, the planes on one side of the room mimicked her finger’s movements and they all flew backward toward the wall. He jumped at the tons of metal moving at the literal flick of her wrist. She did the same to the planes on the other side, opening up the room so she could stare him dead on. “…I think I have enough control,” she replied with a smirk.

His eyes were wide but he still hid most of his fear. “…Olivia…” he breathed warningly.

She took another step forward and he took one back. “What’s that old saying?” She asked, pulling her gloves down tighter around her hand, waving her fingers before clenching them into a fist. “…hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn?” Blue energy danced across her eyes as her anger and wrath burned white-hot behind them.

He tensed before saying, “Olivia…You need to calm down. Try to think.”

She ignored him, advancing toward him. “You lied to me…” she stated.

“…Olivia…” He breathed, quietly.

“… _For years,”_ she hissed through gritted teeth.

“I was only trying to protect you!” he said, trying to plead with her.

“…And, now you’re lying to me… _again,”_ she said, her voice going lower, anger growing. She huffed a laugh. “And, you actually thought you could get away with it?” She tilted her head, jaw clenching. “No…never again.”

“Everything I did, I did to keep you safe, Liv!” he explained.

“You were protecting Tessera! Not me! Never me!” She exclaimed. The wind picked up slightly, blowing her hair gently out of her face. “That’s all this has _ever_ been!”

He glanced around at the sudden movement in the air. “Olivia…you need to calm down before you explode…” he warned, not-so-calmly. “…You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

“You killed my family. You invaded my home. You took my life away from me. You lied to me,” she said, anger growing. The wind picked up and began blowing discarded papers and other tumbleweed- like objects across the room. The lights above their heads flickering. “You’ve tried to find my weaknesses my whole life…” Her hands began glowing blue. She flicked her burning blue eyes up to his, glaring at him through her eyebrows. “…But, I’m stronger than you know,” she growled.

She snapped a hand up, aiming it at one of the planes and it exploded into a blast of blue energy. He darted away from the blast, rolling to a stop. She raised her other hand and another exploded as her fingers curled. He moved away, trying to avoid the new balls of fire around him. He ran in the opposite direction as she played whack-a-mole with the planes, blasting them at his sides as he ran. One blast knocked him to the ground, landing on his stomach. When he peeled himself off of the ground, he saw her, emerging from the newly formed wall of fire, eyes and the veins around them and those in her forearms glowing, burning blue like a furnace. Other than the light dusting of ash on her cheeks, there wasn’t a scratch on her. He, on the other hand, had a gash on his arm and lip was burst open. The wind howled, whipping her hair around. He practically pleaded with her, “Olivia, please, calm do-”

“No,” she said, her voice calm. This was rage, this was a burning wrath, but what made it more terrifying was her calmness. The eye of the storm, the quiet volcano, waiting to erupt. Almost unconsciously, her feet lifted off of the ground as the energy around her brought her floating into the air. As she went higher, the lights sizzled out, the only viable light source being the light in her veins and the red emergency lights. Wind howling, fire burning, eyes glowing, soul set aflame. When she spoke, a hundred, echoing voices escaped from her lips and rang through their ears like a crowd of people, “I’m tired of holding back,” he stood, covering his face from the flames and wind.

“Olivia!” He shouted up at her, over the wind and buzzing energy. “Don’t do this! Don’t be the monster they fear you are!”

Every word was spoken a hundred times over, “I am what you made me.” Then her voice turned deep, monstrous, gravelly, charged with energy and sizzling with anger. She roared, “You made ma a MONSTER!” Then, her voice returned back to normal. “And this _monster_ is coming out of her cage!” She shouted, only her voice echoing off of the walls.

  
He watched in horror as she raised her hands and particles of bright blue energy flew from nearly everywhere, from planes, electric wires, and computers, and collected into a steady stream of light before flying up into her palms. The wind howled and whipped violently, almost knocking him off of his feet. She was up high in the air now, towering over everything. Then, she noticed him pulling a small device from his pocket and pressing a button, hands shaking. Soon after, agents came rushing in by the dozens. They all took no hesitation and fired up at her. Energy shifted, blocking each bullet in a blue trap, stopping it dead in its tacks before the energy dissipated and the bullet dropped to the floor. Thousands flew up at her and none ever came close. Then she moved her hand over the crowd of agents before flashing her palm toward them and a large blast of blue energy, stronger than anything she’d ever created before. It hit them like a train, sending bodies flying in every direction. Then she turned her attention back to Brock, watching fearfully. Energy stabbed its way into her veins like a drug, exploding like fireworks under her skin, jumping around excitedly. To say it was a rush was a serious understatement. Air filled her lungs, her hair flew in the wind. She could feel everything around her, everything with energy, everything with a pulse. She could feel his heart racing, his breathing. She also could sense the man who was running down the hall in the direction of the alarms, toward her. She recognized the energy signature almost immediately but she didn’t react. She had waited five years for this, nothing was going to stop her now. She reached out her hand and lifted him into the air. He began squirming, fighting her. She strained her fingers and he cried out in pain as the energy around him held him still. “Olivia, please!” he managed as she lifted him further into the air, bringing him to her level. “Please! Don’t do this!” he pleaded, seeing the blue energy spread across her skin. Her arms, legs and hair glowing. Energy spread outward from her chest crawling up her neck and across her shoulders. Her entire body was glowing. “Olivia!” he begged again, she ignored him. The energy left in the room shifted. _Steve was there._ The wind whipped around in a huge energized tornado, swirling furiously on the ground under her and Brock. She strained her fingers and lifted them toward his chest. Blue light danced across his eyes, filling up with stinging tears. “No! Olivia! Please!” She didn’t listed. As she slowly brought her fingers into a tightly closed fists, energy flew from his chest, beginning to pool at the surface. He cried out in pain as the energy left him, his eyes glowing bright. Then, he was paralyzed, frozen mid-air, particles of his energy floated between them and then entered her palm.

Burning, jumping, moving energy. She lowered her and. All of the energy was forced inside, retracting from every inch of her. She closed her eyes, taking slow, calm breaths. This much energy…her anger…it was getting harder to hold onto all of it. She paused. She was testing herself. She didn’t explode. No, she was in control. This was all her.

Without opening her eyes, she brought her head up, hair slowly blowing in front of her face. Everything was still, silent…

Her eyes flicked open, blue energy glaring him down. In one quick motion, she brought her knees to her chest and then exploded outward. Her chest shot forward, head rolled back, fists clenched at her sides. A blue shock wave- a wall of energy- shot outward, spreading quickly throughout the hangar. When it hit the nearly lifeless body still hanging in the air, the energy tore through him, starting in his chest and spreading outward. As the energy coursed through him, it turned him to ash which then flew outward in every direction. As for Steve, watching from the sidelines, the shock waves passed through him like a gust of wind, ruffling his hair. He still watched wide-eyed. She lowered herself to the ground, landing on staggering feet. A cool trail of blood dripped from her nose. Her breathing slowed as she muttered, “Never again.” She stood with her head high, watching the carnage she created as the ash slowly fell to the ground. Fire burning behind her, wind slowing to a gentle breeze. It was done. It was over.

“Olivia!” Steve yelled as he ran toward her.

“…Hi,” she replied.

He sprinted toward her, dropping his helmet and shield to the ground, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly. He leaned back, taking her by the shoulders and leaning down so he could look her in the eye. “Are you alright?” He asked, his eyes frantically checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine,” she answered.

He sighed, relieved. “What the hell was that?”

She laughed her actual laugh and smirked. “Improvising.”

He smiled, slowly brushing his hands down her arms. “See? Told you, you’re stronger than you know.”

She smiled back at him. Then she glanced down at her feet. “Guess I never knew what I was capable of…” She muttered, bringing her navy eyes back to his adoring ones. She inhaled before adding something else but she hesitated. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and nervously muttered, “…T-Thank you for-” His eyes glanced over her shoulder before going wide. Before she could react or ask what it was, he jumped.

“Look out!” He screamed, yanking her back, placing her behind him, protectively. Through the blur of movement, she noticed a sniper up at the top of the stairs, aiming his gun down at them.

A shot rang out.

She tried to react, wrapping her arms around his torso but by the time the shield had formed, the bullet was already burrowing its way into his chest.

He fell back into her arms and she held him up right. She lifted one arm and before she could blast down the sniper, he hit another button on the panel next to the door, different alarms began blaring. She blasted the sniper down before turning her attention to Steve. He was clutching the center of his chest, blood flowing down his uniform. “Steve!” she gasped, seeing his injury. She slowly lowered him to the ground, kneeling beside him. She moved his and away from the wound, analyzing it. Then she yelled orders into her necklace. “Rogers is hit! I need a team in here now!”

An unfamiliar voice buzzed in their ears. “Self-destruct has been activated. We can’t let anyone else in!"

Her eyes went wide, considering her options and lack thereof. He saw her worried expression and opened his mouth to say something but she pushed both hands into the mound, he winced. “Sorry. You’ve gotta keep pressure on it,” she said, trying to calm her frantic breathing.

“Olivia…” he groaned, voice growing weak.

“You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be alright.” He knew it was a lie but she was lying to herself more than she was lying to him. His hands closed around her wrists, trying to pull her hands off of his wound but she wasn’t budging.

“…Olivia…” he said, remorsefully.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” It was a promise.

“There’s not enough time,” he said growing weaker by the second.

“You don’t know that.” He was right, she knew it.

“Olivia…” He lifted her hands off of him. “You have to go.”

“No…” she muttered. “I’m _not leaving you,”_ She said, a knot tangling in her chest.

“You have to,” he said quietly.

“Listen to him, Liv! Get out of there!” Nick ordered. She hesitated. “Damn it, Liv, that’s an order!”

“What the hell did I say, Steve?!” she said, tears stinging into her eyes. “…I don’t need saving.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why you have to go,” he said, coughing slightly.

“…No,” she shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Get out of there, Liv! Now!” Nick shouted.

“Both of you! Stop telling me what to do!” she ordered.

“Olivia…hey…” he said, trying to get her attention. He put one hand on her cheek, using any strength he had left. “You have to go. Don’t die over an idiot like me.”

“No! I can’t leave you!” she cried. “You’re the only one who believes in me, Steve! I can’t lose you!”

“I do believe in you. Liv, why do you think I saved you?” he said exasperated. “You’re the one who has to live. You’re the one who has to survive this.”

“ _Why?!_ Why _me?!_ ” She asked desperately, tears rolling down her face. She clutched to his wrist, leaning into his palm against her cheek. “After so many damn times of telling you I didn’t need saving, why did you save me?! I could’ve shielded myself! Why did you-"

He pulled her face to his and kissed her lightly, sweetly. She froze, purely in shock. When they parted energy danced across their lips, sparking like static electricity. “…That’s why,” he whispered. _Oh, my God._ “…Go.”

She couldn’t even fathom words so she just shook her head at him, tears streaming down her face, washing her cheeks clean of Brock’s ash and Steve’s blood.

“Damn it, Olivia! Go! Don’t try to save me, _save yourself!”_

“No!” she exploded. “I won’t let you become a martyr over me! You saved me now I save you! _We’re saving each other!”_

She slung his arm over her shoulder and began helping him limp toward the exit to the hangar that lead out to the huge cliff and the bottom of the mountain and then, they jumped, the self-destruct exploding the entire base only seconds after.

When they fell, she made sure she fell first so she would take most of the fall. She wrapped her arms around him, shielding him from any debris from the explosion. She did her best to slow them down but she could only do so much with an extra 250 pounds to balance. She hit the bottom of the snow covered mountain in front of the agent’s set up, Nick watching as they fell. The force of the fall caused them to separate falling in different directions. They stopped about 100 feet up from the bottom, a steep hill separating Olivia and Steve from immediate help. When Olivia regained consciousness a few seconds later, she groaned, seeing nothing but white. She lifted herself to her arms, quickly detecting that her ribs were aching more now, either injured more or the adrenaline wearing off. She glanced around, searching for him. “Steve?” she called, her voice echoing off of the mountain side. She noticed his unmistakable uniform as he lied, face-up, in the snow, eyes shut. She frantically limped her way over to him, collapsing at his side. “Steve!” she said, waiting for him to respond. She put her hands on his cheeks trying to get his attention. “Steve!” He didn’t move. “…Come on, Steve. Wake up!” she said louder as if he couldn’t hear her. Tears welled up in her eyes. “…Steve, please…” Voice breaking, she inhaled shakily. “…Please, wake up…” One tear fell down her cheek. …No, no, no, no, no, NO!” she screamed, more tears following her words as she leaned over his lifeless body, realizing what had happened. Medics began quickly climbing their way up to them.

“NO!” Another voice screamed. She glanced up to see Bucky, agents holding him back before he fell to his knees, sobbing.

“I-I’m so sorry…” she muttered to Bucky, knowing he wasn’t hearing her. Then she turned back to Steve. “…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry…” she cried, cradling his head in her lap. “This is all my fault. I could have saved you,” she muttered repeatedly through her sobs. “My fault. I could’ve saved you. My fault. My fault. All my fault. I could’ve saved you. I could’ve save you. I COULD’VE SAVED YOU!” she screamed. She took rapid, shallow breaths, looking down at her hands before looking up at Nick, waiting at the bottom of the mountain.

He knew what she was thinking and he just shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes, muttering, “No, Liv, Don’t.”

She mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry…’ before she put to fingers up to her jugular and shocked herself. She fell back into the snow, his head still resting in her lap.

And, she didn’t expect to wake up.


	12. So Much More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ash settles and they attempt to pick up the pieces.

Darkness. Pain. Air. Can’t breathe. A crushing weight on his chest that faded into a deep, stinging pain that went through him, just under his ribcage, a few inches lower of where his heart was. His ears rang. He felt like a rock, a statue, he couldn’t move. _Eyes. Eyes, open your eyes._ A group of men was leaning over him, ordering each other, shouting things he couldn’t hear. He had an oxygen mask over his face. “He’s up!” one yelled, flashing a light into his eyes.

“Pupils responsive but dilated, probable concussion,” another commented.

“Captain Rogers, can you hear me?” a voice echoed.

“…Olivia…” he groaned.

“Sir, can you hear me?”

“…What…What happened…?” he whispered weakly.

“Conscious and responding,” one observed.

“You’re injured, sir. We’re going to help you.”

“…Is…Is she…she…?”

“Try not to speak, sir. You may have a collapsed lung.”

“Where…is…she?”

“She arrived two minutes ago.”

“Will…will be…alright?”

“Yes, sir. You’re going to be just fine.”

“ _Her…_ Will be…alright?”

“…Just hold on, sir.” He knew exactly what that answer meant but couldn’t ask more before passing out again.

***

He woke up a day later with a bandage over the center of his chest. They told him that the bullet hit him two inches under his heart, three centimeters left from grazing his aorta. Clean entrance and exit. After blood transfusions and a surgery to remove any shrapnel and cauterize a few arteries, he had nothing but a two inch scar on his chest to show for it. Sam and Bucky visited daily. However, when he asked them about her, they told him that they didn’t know anything. Not where she was, or, more importantly, _how_ she was. He asked the doctors and nurses, they refused to tell him anything. As soon as he could walk, he went canvasing the rooms, searching desperately for her.  Nurses shut down his little search, sending him back to his room, claiming he needed to rest. It wasn’t until his third day in the hospital that he finally found her. Room 1219.

She was lying in her hospital bed, unconscious, I.V in her arm, oxygen mask over her face. She looked pale, sunken in. Her face was bruised but she still looked like her. Steve thanked God for that. She was eating through a tube in her arm and she was barely breathing on her own but she still looked like her. Steve concluded that she used too much energy when she exploded and killed Brock and dragging him off of the mountain put the final nail in the coffin. To Steve, if she died, it was his fault. Guess you could say the two of them thought alike. He wanted to be near her, he wanted to thank her, wanted to speak with her. If anything, he just wanted to see her open her eyes. She was the only person who understood what he went through, she wanted to help him. Not in the way others helped him, she wasn’t trying to help him understand technology or history, she was helping him emotionally. She was caring about him. That’s what set her apart. She cared. Maybe that’s because she knew what it was like to not have anyone care about you.

How someone like her, someone who had been wronged so much, been hurt so much, still found a reason to smile and care and help was an absolute mystery to him. She was a beacon of hope to him, a flame that refused to be extinguished, and continued to catch and give of warmth and light, all of the while, burning, destroying, obliterating everything that she could, everything that had hurt her, turned to ash. The pit of his stomach burned with anger at the thought of someone hurting her. She was this smart, sweet, beautiful, magnificent person who wanted nothing more than to help people. Why, _in God’s name_ , would someone hurt her? He decided, then and there, in that hospital room, that no one is born a cynic. No, cynics are _made._ Inside every cynic is a disappointed optimist. Someone who had been hurt _so much_ that they had lost all faith in people. She wasn’t untrusting, she wasn’t pessimistic, she didn’t actually believe that people were bad and fake and lying, she just hadn’t been shown anything different. No one, _in her whole life_ , had ever been a good person to her. That’s why she was so tough, she had been hurt before. The people who have been broken the most are the people who know how to put the pieces back together. _How could, not one, but multiple people find the nerve to hurt someone like her?!_ To him, that was like burning The Mona Lisa, extinguishing the sun. _There are only a few rare people like her, how could someone waste that? Waste her?_ It pissed him off so much. What angered him even more was the fact that she had been hurt so much, broken so much, she wanted only for someone to be nice to her, to be a good person. The second someone offered to treat her like a person, she clung to them like her life depended in it. That someone was him and he was only doing what he thought everyone should do.

How hard was it for people? Just to be decent to her? God, no wonder she’s a cynic. All this time she just wanted someone to be _nice_ to her. She deserves that. She deserves that and _so much more._ So. Much. More.

He sat down next to the bed, reached out and squeezed her lifeless hand in his, praying to God she would wake up. “I’m so sorry, Olivia…” he whispered, his thumb brushing small circles over the back of her hand, watching her sleep. “You deserved-” he cut himself off before correcting himself: “You _deserve_ so much more.”

“What are you doing in here?” a voice called, flatly.

He looked over his shoulder to find Nick, glaring down at him. “Am I not allowed to see her?” he asked defensively.

“No. You’re not,” Nick answered. “Out,” he ordered.

“Excuse me?” he asked, standing, growing angry.

“I want you out of here. Now,” Nick growled.

“Forgive me, but I care about what happens to her,” Steve snapped. “She saved my life, Nick.”

“And, almost lost hers. All because of _you_.”

“I wanted her to leave that base just as much as you did. Saving me was her choice…an extremely brave choice, too.”

“She wasn’t going to set foot in that base if it wasn’t for you.”

“ _Me?”_

“She was just about to turn around and come back like she was _ordered to_. And, then, you came waltzing along, telling her ‘don’t follow Nick’s orders, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.’”

“How do you know about that?” Steve asked.

“That necklace is a lot more than just a tracking device. I know exactly what you told her and you told her to betray my direct orders-”

“You’re treating her like a weapon, like she was your _property._ I just reminded her that she is an actual person who has a say in what she does. I reminded her that she didn’t have to be your or anyone’s _prisoner_.”

“You’re crossing a line, Rogers.”

“ _Am I?_ Because I don’t see how treating someone like an actual human being is crossing a line.”

“Stand down, Rogers,” he snapped.

“Is that an order?” Steve asked, wryly.

“Oh, I’ll make it one,” Nick threatened. “I don’t want you seeing my daughter again.”

“Oh, so, _now_ you treat her like she’s family?”

“She _is_ family. I’ve raised her since she was six. I know her limitations a hell of a lot better than you and she wasn’t strong enough to go into that base.”

“She _vaporized_ Brock. I saw it with my own eyes. And she was still able to save both of our lives. You call that not strong enough?”

“She went into that base and she came out in a _coma_. And you? The person who pushed her into that damned thing? You’re up and walking.”

“Going into that base was _her_ decision. It’s not like I convinced her to disobey orders or risk her life. I gave her the option to decide what _she wanted_ to do. It’s not my fault she chose to disobey you.”

“She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.”

“She’s not a child playing with fire, Nick!” he snapped. “She knew exactly how dangerous it was and she was scared but she did it anyway. She’s brave, Nick, not stupid!”

“I want you out. _Now,”_ Nick growled. “Security!” Two agents rushed in, taking Steve by the arm and attempting to pull him out. He didn’t budge.

“She’s stronger than you know, Nick. Don’t underestimate her.”

“Get out.”


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia wakes up.

She felt a sudden shift in the energy of the blackness around her and she recognized his energy signature. She felt his energy enter, he felt so close to her, just within her grasp. For a split second, she even thought she felt his hand on hers. But, then, it vanished and her surroundings went cold, quiet and black. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t have been there. _It was just a dream_.

“Steve…” she muttered quietly.

Nick sat down next to her, brushing a stray hair out of her face. “You’re gonna be just fine, kid,” he said quietly, a small smile growing on his face at the minuscule evidence that she was going to be okay. “…Just fine.” When she woke, she didn’t open her eyes, she always knew where she was. The sound of announcements running faintly over the PA system, the sound of a heart monitor beeping at her side, the all too familiar feeling of a newly-formed bruise on the inside of her left elbow and the small of a hospital; cleaning products, slowly wilting flowers and bodily fluids. She finally opened her eyes to the blinding overhead lights, making her cringe. She felt a burning tightness on her neck, no doubt from the attempted- Nope. No, she wasn’t going to think about that. “Morning, sleepy head.”

“Hey, Uncle Nick,” she replied, closing her eyes again. “How long have I been out?”

“A few days,” he answered. “Didn’t miss much.”

“So, let’s see, two blood transfusions, 200 milligrams of Vicodin, I’ve got a few busted ribs, nothing serious, couple of pretty bad bruises, a twisted ankle, dislocated shoulder and a concussion that hurts like a bitch, but… I’ll be okay.”

“That’s not bad for someone who fell off of a mountain…”

She opened her eyes, suddenly remembering everything. She noticed a large vase full of nearly every flower imaginable, probably Nick’s doing. “…I let him die, didn’t I?”

“No, Liv, you didn’t.” He was quick to try and put her at ease.

“It was my fault, Nick. We both know that.”

He sighed. “…Liv…”

“I should have taken that bullet, not him. He didn’t deserve this.”

“Liv, I-”

“Don’t try to defend me, Nick,” she snapped. “It was my fault. It was all my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t!” He said angrily, almost as if he was scolding her. “He jumped in front of you. There is no way that it was your fault he got hit.”

She scoffed, eyes filling with tears. “I could’ve shielded him.”

“Liv, there wasn’t-”

“I could’ve saved him, Nick. He died out there because I wasn’t paying attention. _It is my fault_.”

“Olivia-”

“No!” she snapped. “Don’t you dare try to justify this. He was a good man. He was selfless, honest… brave. He was a better person than all of us. He was the last person who should’ve died out there.” Tears began streaming down her face. “He, of all people, didn’t deserve this.” She became hysterical and began hyperventilating.

“Olivia!” He said, trying to stop her crying, trying to calm her down. It truly terrified to see her like this.

“I tried to save him!” she managed through her tears. “I tried to save him! I tried! I failed! I’m sorry!” Then, he sat back, tears welling up in his eyes. He was shocked that this trauma was enough to cause her to raise her voice at him, something she’d never done before. “But, I’m a monster! I’m a weapon! I was made to kill people, not save them! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Uncle Nick!” She broke down crying, sobbing. Nick hadn’t seen her do that in twenty years.

“Oh, hell…” He sighed. “I can’t keep you from finding out anyway,” he muttered.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He sighed. “…He’s alive…”

“…What?”

“He’s not dead. Medics revived him. He’s alive.”

“…T.A.H.I.T.I.?”

“No. Good old fashioned defibrillation and blood transfusions.”

She tried to sit up, groaning slightly at the dull pain in. “Where is he?”

He shot up and tried to lay her back down. “Liv, you’re weak.”

“Fuck that,” she said through gritted teeth. “Where is he?!” she yelled.

“Olivia, I don’t want you to see him anymore.”

She raised her eyebrows up at him. “What?”

“He’s a bad influence on you,” Nick answered simply.

“On me? Why?”

“You weren’t even supposed to go on that train in the first place. Then, he came on by and talked you into it. He’s the whole reason you’re lying in this room at all.”

She scoffed, considering punching Nick in the face. “He’s a bad influence on me because he believes in me?” she snapped. “Because he thinks I don’t have to do everything you order me to? I think you’re forgetting that I’m not just a weapon you control, alright? I’m a person, I have a say in my own life. I’m not just here to get your secrets for you.”

“He distracts you, Liv. He makes you lose sight of the mission at hand.”

“You mean, he’s the first person who has told me that I don’t have to let you exploit me, _just like Hydra did?_ ”

“You need to stay focus on the job, nothing else,” he began, ignoring her argument.

“I think I’ll decide what I _need_ , Nick. Not you. I’m a grown woman, I can decide what’s best for me.”

“And is that what he is? The best for you? Your job was to get Barnes and bring him back. _He’s_ the one who talked you into getting revenge on Brock and you paid the price for it. He’s the reason you’re in here.”

“ _I_ wanted revenge, not him. And, he’s honest, he believes in me, and that’s more than I can say about you.”

“Watch yourself, young lady,” Nick snapped.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Where is he?”

This made him snap. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shouted, “You tried to _kill_ yourself, Liv!” She didn’t have a snappy reply for that. “You tried to kill yourself over _him._ You can’t afford a weakness like that. Because someone will take advantage of it.”

“Having an emotional connection with someone isn’t a weakness, Nick. Depending on someone isn’t a weakness.”

“In your line of work it is,” he answered.

“What about in my personal life? Oh, no, wait, I’m sorry. You think those are the same thing.”

“Liv, I’m just trying to protect you,” he said, trying to help her lie back down.

“I’m sorry about this, Nick.” Before he had an opportunity to ask what she meant, she blasted him into the wall, knocking him out. She ripped out her IV with a wince and tore off her heart monitor.

“Crash in 1219!” She heard nurses scramble upon hearing the heart monitor flat-line. Three nurses ran into the room and they saw Nick on the floor, obviously attacked. Then, they glanced up at Olivia, still in her hospital gown, giving them a blank stare. The first reached down for her and she twisted his arm backward, causing him to keel forward. Then, she kneed him in the head. The second wrapped his arms around her neck and she flipped him over onto the floor. A third came after her with a syringe, full of what she assumed to be a sedative. She managed to wrangle it out of his hands and it fell to the floor. He grabbed both of her hands and she brought both her legs up and kicked him in the chest. He flew back into the wall and then fell to the floor. A fourth came in and pinned her down, putting his knees on her shoulders. She slammed her head into his but he didn’t budge. Then she grabbed the syringe off of the floor and shoved it into his neck and injected him. He passed out on top of her and two more came into the room. She kicked him off of her and stood, blasting down the rest of the nurses. She ran down the hall, glancing back at the mess she had created as alarms began to scream. Agents began chasing after her but she had only one thing on her mind: finding him.

She turned a corner and grunted in pain as she ran into someone, or, more accurately, someone’s chest.  Whoever she ran into she was a lot shorter than him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a familiar voice said, tenderly, the sound of his voice vibrating through his chest. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She lifted her head, stumbling backward. Her eyes went wide when she realized who she had run into. He was in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. “I heard the heart monitor flat-line and I was worried that you…” He trailed off, noticing her wide-eyed expression. “…What?”

She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, her feet dangling a good foot from the floor. He stumbled backward, not expecting her sudden movement. She didn’t care and just clung to him anyway, burying her face into his shoulder. Tears fell from her eyes, wetting a spot on his t-shirt. “Mon Dieu, tu es ici! Tu n’es pas…” She muttered excitedly into his skin, her speech muffled by her sobs and his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her from sliding back to the floor. Just when he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, a swarm of agents came around the corner, guns aimed up at her. He raised one of his palms up at them, as if saying ‘stand down, I’ve got her.’ They hesitated but then they left to deal with the chaos she’d left behind her. Then, he turned his attention back to Olivia who was still muttering sobbing words as she clutched desperately to him. “Olivia?” He asked, stroking her hair gently, calming her down a bit.

 

She switched back to English, muttering a bit more intelligibly. “You’re alive! You’re okay! You’re not dead!”

“I’m fine, Olivia. Is everything alright?” he asked, tenderly whispering into her ear.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself upright. Her eyes were red, tears streaming down her face. “When we fell, you…you weren’t…weren’t moving…you were _dead_ , I-I thought…” Her jaw dropped as she took in a deep, shaky breath.

“Hey, it’s alright, Olivia. I’m fine,” he assured her, noticing her frantic demeanor. As soon as the words fell from his lips, she grinned, letting out some sort of happy, breathy noise, clinging to him again, burying her face into his shoulder, sniffing and sobbing. “Shh, it’s alright, I’m okay, I’m fine,” he tried to console her.

She sat herself up again, rambling, trying to explain why she was acting like this. “I-I thought you were- you were gone, I thought that- thought I let you die, thought I didn’t save you…” He slowly lowered her to the floor as she continued mumbling. She didn’t even notice that she had moved her hands from his shoulders down to his forearms, refusing to let go of him. “I-I-I just-just didn’t know how I was going to live…live with that guilt, how I was going to live without you, how I-I was…was going to…” She continued her nervous, excited stuttering until he took one of her hands and placed it on his chest, resting his hand on top of hers.

“Olivia…” She felt his voice shake through his chest, his heart thumping away (a bit faster than usual) and his uniform breathing. She froze, her mumbling ceasing immediately. “… _I’m okay.”_ Then, she hesitantly moved her hand down. Lifting up his shift and gently running her thumb over the stitches in the center of his chest, just a couple inches down from his heart.

“You-you’re okay,” she replied, almost as if it was a question, keeping her eyes on the wound on his chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay. You saved me, Liv,” he told her, her breathing calming as she felt his heart beat against her hand.  _He is alive._ She glanced up at him, eyes wide, and her breath shaky but steadying. Then, he saw the familiar glint of hope in her navy blue eyes, something so rare and magnificent, he found himself lost in the look in her eyes. Then he glanced down at her lips, which were lacking her lipstick, her freckles that dusted her nose were perfectly visible and her eyes, layered in dark lashes and tears, were a hopeful navy blue. She was in a boxy, stiff hospital gown, her straight hair wasn’t done or curled and she had never been more beautiful, not to him at least.

_My God, she’s gorgeous._

_My God, he’s alive, he’s here._

_She has hope in her eyes._

_The only person who believes in me, he’s alive._

_The woman who has been hurt so much_

_Has new found hope. In. Her. Eyes._

_The only good person I’ve met is alive._

_She’s staring up at me with that grateful,_

_hopeful look in her eyes but she doesn’t_

_even realize the hope she’s given me._

_I had lost all hope of finding someone like him,_

_I had given up on people. He doesn’t_

_even realize how much hope he’s given me._

_I never thought I would find someone as_

_understanding and kind as her._

_I never thought I would find someone as good_

_And honest as him._

_If it wasn’t for her, I would still be lost._

_If it wasn’t for him, I would’ve never been found._

_She saved me._

_He saved me._

_We saved each other._

She put a hand on the back of his neck, pulled him down and slammed her lips into his. He didn’t resist. The kiss was anything but gentle, but they didn’t mind.

They both just didn’t want to let the other go.

They both jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. They pulled away.

“Oh, my God, Nick!” She exclaimed, noticing him giving Steve the death stare. Steve snapped his hands to his side and Olivia removed her hand from under his shirt.

Steve blushed a deep red before muttering, “…Oh, sh-” That was the closest he had ever come to swearing around her but Bucky cut him off.

“Hey! Look who’s up!” He greeted, him and Sam walking up to the two of them, entering into the awkward conversation.

“Looks like you two _were_ having a moment,” Sam said with a smirk.

Olivia blushed. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can,” Nick said.

“Sir, if I may-” Steve began.

“No, you may not,” Nick interrupted. “Olivia Marie, we will discuss this later… _at length,”_ he said, rubbing the back of his head. “And, as for you, Rogers,” Steve’s fists clenched, freezing at the sound of his name. “…If I ever see your hands on my daughter again-”

“Nick, stop,” she warned. “Play nice.”

Nick sighed, agitated. “Just…keep your hands to yourself,” he growled.

Steve reluctantly nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nick grumbled, walking back to deal with the unconscious agents waiting into her room.

“…Well, that was awkward,” Bucky said with a snort.

“God, he’s terrifying,” Sam remarked.

“That’s an understatement,” Steve added.

“Try growing up with him,” Olivia added, before her knees went weak and her vision blurred.

Steve wrapped an arm around her waist, asking, “You alright?”

“Yeah, the adrenaline’s wearing off,” Olivia replied, wincing.

“Come on,” he said, gently slinging her arm over his shoulder, “Let’s get you back to bed, alright?”

“Thank you, Steve but I can walk just fine,” she protested.

Bucky slung her other arm over his shoulder. “You fell off a mountain, kid. Maybe you should take it easy for a while,” he muttered. When they turned the corner and they saw the nurses limping out of her room, dizzy, Bucky’s mouth fell open. “Jesus.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” she said smirking, Steve showing the same reaction.

“There she is,” Steve muttered quietly.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked

“They tried to keep me from Steve,” She said, not realizing the double meaning behind her words. She quickly added, “Nick thinks you’re a bad influence on me.”

“Gee, wonder why,” Bucky said with a scoff. “You did all this to get to him and then Nick finds you two tongue wrestling.”

“Shut up, punk,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Jerk,” Bucky replied.

“Are you two done flirting with each other?” Olivia asked with a smirk.

“Oh, hey, did you get my flowers?” Steve asked with a smile as they walked into her room. Steve gently set her down on her bed, careful to avoid hurting her bruised and broken ribs, tucking her in. They all pulled up chairs and Steve sat on the edge of the bed with her. “Guys, really I’ll be fine. You don’t have to wait here.”

“Uh-uh. We’re not leaving you,” Bucky said.

“Guys-” She began to protest.

“Nope. Liv, you’re the reason we’re alive. If Brock got away, if you didn’t get us out of there, we wouldn’t be here,” Sam explained.

“We’re alive, thanks to you,” Bucky said.

“If you need anything, we’re going to be right here,” Steve added with an endearing smile.

“…Thanks guys.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Sam asked.

“Well, I think you and Stevie are a bit more than friends,” Bucky retorted with an eyebrow wiggle.

Steve sighed, “We’re never going to live that down, are we?”

“Not a chance, ‘ _Stevie_ ,’” Olivia replied.


	14. Epilouge

She stared out at the skyline, the wind breezing through her hair. The night had turned the air chilly but she didn’t seem to mind. She actually enjoyed the crisp air and the chill on her skin. She had a notebook out in front of her, pen in hand, scribbling a few things down. Music was playing softly in the background: _Only Exception_ by Paramore.

Steve entered the room, joining her at the open window. “Hey.”

She turned to him, beaming upon seeing his soft, pale-blue gaze. “…Hi,” she said with a grin which she quickly restrained into a smirk.

“You’re on your feet,” he observed. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she answered. “I’ve been worse.”

He chuckled quietly, putting his hands in his pockets. “You and your defense mechanisms.” She smiled, glancing down at her feet.

_When I was younger I saw_

_My daddy cry and curse at the wind._

_He broke his own heart and I watched_

_As he tried to reassemble it._

_And that was the day I promised, I’d never sing of love, if it does not exist,_

_But, darling, you are the only exception…_

“This is your ‘intimidating’ music?” he asked, smirking.

She smiled in response. “I can turn on Fall Out Boy, if you want me to.”

“No, no, it’s fine…I kinda like it, actually,” he said, locking his eyes onto hers. She smiled, blushing and nervously brushing the hair out of her face. Quickly, she changed the subject.

“What about you? You feeling alright?”

“Better than ever,” he replied. He wasn’t lying.

She smiled… _again._ “And, Buck? How’s he?”

“He’s going to be fine…Thanks to you.”

She blushed even more. “…Thanks to us,” she corrected. They both just smiled as they stared at each other.

And, maybe, I know somewhere, deep in my soul,

That love never lasts,

And, we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone,

Or keep a straight face.

And I’ve always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance

And up until now, I’ve sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

But you are the only exception…

“…Happy birthday, by the way,” she added, ending their comfortable silence.

He sighed. “Y’know, as you get older, they just get less and less fun,” he said.

She chuckled lightly. “It’s kind of ironic, your birthday being-”

“Don’t bother, Bucky beat you to the punch about 70 years ago.” She laughed again, twirling her pen between her fingers. He noticed this before asking, “What’s that?” pointing down at the notebook.

“Oh, that. It’s just a…a little story I’ve been writing. Helps me calm down, clear my head after a mission…Just a…hobby,” she answered modestly even though the notebook was almost entirely filled and well worn. He nodded in understanding.

“I do the same thing. Whenever I want to…escape it all for a while, I sketch,” he said. She smiled and nodded.

They just stared at each other for a moment, gazing into eyes full of newly found hope. Neither of them knew just how much someone could understand them. He wanted to learn where he belonged in this world, he wanted to stop regretting his past, he wanted someone to trust. She wanted to heal, she wanted to stop her self-doubt, she wanted to forget her life before Baghdad, before Brock betrayed her, she wanted someone to trust. At the end of the day, they were both just two people moving forward, no longer chasing their pasts. They needed each other, and they both knew it. When they both stared into each other’s eyes, _they knew it._ He glanced over at the door where a nurse was waving him down and then pointing to her watch. He nodded before turning back to her. “Visiting hours are ending, nurses are trying to kick me out… If you need anything,” He pointed up at The Tower in the skyline. “…I’ll be right there.” She smiled. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Until then…” he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “…get some rest.” She blushed furiously and he smiled, turning to leave.

She felt the words creep up onto her tongue. She couldn’t just let him leave without telling him. “…Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?” he said, turning back to her.

“…I, uh,” she took a step toward him, eliminating the space between them. “I never got a chance to say thank you… for saving my life…Taking that bullet was a really brave thing to do,” she admitted, nervously. She had suddenly lost her wall of confidence. Now, she was almost self-conscious as she crossed her arms and nervously ran her fingers through her hair.

He smiled, taking her hand in his, gently rubbing slow circles on her knuckles with his thumb. “No… we did something that took a hell of a lot more guts…we saved each other.”

She stared up at him. “What are you doing?” she asked, innocently, her voice higher than usual.

He shrugged with a smirk. “Improvising.”

“…Y’know…I think I’m over this whole ‘bad-boy’ phase,” she said with a laugh.

“You sure about that?” he teased, his eyes roving down to her lips then snapping back to her navy stare.

_You are the only exception._

She chuckled. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me, Spangles.” He snorted at her nickname before she pulled him down, crashing her lips into his. They were so lost in each other that they didn’t even notice the sound of fireworks whistling up into the sky. They jumped when they exploded and they both smiled at each other. “Fireworks,” she observed.

“Well, it is the Fourth of July,” he replied, smiling.

“This is so cliché,” she laughed.

“I think I’m beginning to like cliché,” Steve muttered before kissing her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, so ends Chasing the Past! I may consider writing a sequel. Let my know if you guys want more.


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